Page 49 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
Myra’s tongue went dry. "I?—"
"What happened here?"
Myra ripped her hand from Laurince’s and stood, her hip bumping into the table. "Nothing," she blurted as Laurince said, "I accidentally knocked them over."
Rian glanced at Myra, a question flashing across his features. Before she could explain the lie, Rian turned to Laurince and chuckled. "You really hate reading, don’t you?"
Myra’s shoulders sagged in relief.
"I don’t hate reading."
Both Rian and Myra raised an eyebrow at that. They both had caught the captain falling asleep on numerous occasions when they were supposed to be researching.
The captain rolled his eyes. "I just don’t love readingthesetexts."
Rian pointed over his shoulder at a series of shelves. "I found some children’s books earlier. Want one of those instead? One had a dragon on it and tons of illustrations. Very few words."
Laurince shoved Rian in the shoulder. "The words aren’t the problem,Your Highness," he said, the title a playful hiss. He bent down and grabbed the rest of the books. He placed them on the table and leaned against it, tapping his fingers on the cover. "I am getting peckish, though," he mumbled.
Myra sighed, a sense of hopelessness replacing the previous embarrassment. "We should probably give this a rest today anyway."
"We can return tomorrow if you want?"
Myra couldn’t tell if the offer was out of pity or sympathy. Either way, she forced a smile on her face and nodded. Althoughthe smile she wore didn’t reach her eyes. Not even a little as the doubt crept in and created a home inside her chest.
Myra never consideredherself to be skilled in premonition. The gods, while often cruel, had spared her by not granting her the ability to see the future. Yet somehow the doubt that had followed her from the library to the dining hall that night seemed to nag at her. She struggled to eat the meal in front of her and pushed the roasted potatoes around her plate aimlessly.
The dining hall was full of staff and its inhabitants, but the head table was barer than usual. Both the queen and the princess were absent, along with several others.
Every whisper, every footstep had her looking over her shoulder. Something was wrong. She could feel it twisting around the wide-open space, latching onto the walls, and crawling toward the ceiling like ivy.
"Rian?"
At the sound of Medenia’s voice, Myra snapped her head up from her barely touched plate.
Still in her training leathers, the princess strolled toward them. Wisps of hair floated around her, and her braid was nearly falling apart. Ophelia walked beside Medenia and wore a similar set of leathers. When they reached the end of the table, apprehension dripped from the pair like a leaky roof.
"Hmm?" Rian hummed over a mouthful of veal.
"Can I talk to you, please?" The princess tilted her head toward the hallway.
"Now?"
Medenia nodded, mouth drawn flat.
"Very well," Rian said, standing. Laurince followed suit.
Medenia cocked a brow. "I only asked for the king’s presence."
"If I go, he goes," Rian stated.
Medenia pursed her lips, her gaze flicking between the two men. But as if deciding it wasn’t worth the argument, she conceded. Without another word, the four of them filtered out of the room.
As Myra sat at the table alone, the nausea only worsened. She didn’t know how long she had sat there. With each minute that went by, her mind spiraled further. Had Medenia heard something? Had Kallie already met with Domitius? The possibilities worsened with every passing minute.
Soon, the clatter of dishes stirred her from her thoughts. Blinking, she looked around her and found the room almost empty. Nearby, a few staff members were clearing the dishes. Her gaze turned to the two empty seats across from her, the plates still half-full. Clearing the stiffness from her throat, Myra stood, grabbing her plate. She began stacking the other two as well when a staff member stopped her.
"I got it," the man said, offering her a polite smile.
