Chapter 11
Amryn
Voices rose and fell, undulating withconversation and bursts of high, flirtatious laughter. The clink of glass and the click of heels on stone punctuated the din. The sounds weren’t all that different from the empathic feelings Amryn felt as she stood outside the open door. Nerves fluttered above swells of amusement, excitement, and homesickness. Hunger wove its way throughout; for dinner, and—for some—an intense desire to be alone with their new spouse. Amryn’s cheeks burned in the dim hallway, and she fought to focus on other emotions. There was irritation. Frustration. Grief pierced high and sharp, and Amryn recognized the strong emotion as Cora’s. The more time Amryn spent with a person, the more accustomed to their emotions she would become.
She hung outside the doorway, shielded in the shadows. She was reluctant to join the others. She was exhausted after suffering the barrage of so many diverse and relentless emotions. It was entirely different from her life in Ferradin, which she spent mostly secluded. The castle staff had thought she was excessively private, and some even speculated she was often ill. But the truth was much simpler—as an empath, it was draining to be around others. Not to mention, it was exhausting to constantly worry that she would do something to out herself.
Of course, she was also reluctant to enter the room because she was late, and she hated when people stared. And the thought of facing a room full of couples while alone wasnotpleasant.
She had been ready to go down to dinner for at least half an hour, but she’d been waiting for Carver. Who hadn’t shown up in their suite, even though Ahmi had assured her all the men were back from their time at the training yard.
Ahmi had helped her dress in a sapphire blue dress with thin sleeves that were tight to the wrist, then belled out to drape over her hands. The waist was fitted and the skirt fell to the floor, rippling like water when she moved. Her long red locks were gathered over one shoulder and secured with a simple tie low against the side of her neck. A simple silver necklace—a gift from her uncle—completed the outfit.
The only thing she was missing was her new husband.
When she could no longer stand to feel Ahmi’s sour mixture of worry and pity, Amryn had simply walked herself down to dinner. She didn’t know where Carver was, nor did she care. She certainly wasn’t going to feel slighted by his disappearance.
Reminding herself of that resolve, she took a deep breath in the dimly lit hall, and then she swept into the room.
Everyone stood in twos, the couples hanging onto each other’s arms or at least standing close. Conversations abounded, and everyone sipped amber liquid from short glasses. Carver, she noted, was not there.
“Ah!” Marriset’s voice rang out. “There you are, Amryn. You’ve finally deigned to join us?”
Amryn stiffened at the now-familiar wave of spite that came from the other woman. After their agonizingly long afternoon together, she was thoroughly out of patience for Marriset and her false smiles.
Jayveh and Argent both twisted, and Argent grinned at her. “Amryn! Where by all the Divinities is Carver? He didn’t leave you to walk alone, did he?”
“I’m not sure where he is.” Amryn joined their circle, even though it included Marriset and her husband, Darrin. Stealing a glance across the room, she saw Tam and Rivard talking with Samuel and Sadia. Her eyes lingered on Rivard; his nose was swollen and bruised. Ivan and Cora stood slightly apart from the others, sipping drinks.
Argent frowned, and something like guilt and worry squirmed through him. “Perhaps he’s still meeting with the high cleric.”
Amryn blinked. “He had a meeting with the high cleric?”
Marriset’s fingernails tapped her glass—a subtle way to draw their eyes. Her smile appeared innocent enough, but her pleasure at gaining their attention was only too clear. “You didn’t know?” She rubbed a hand over her husband’s arm. “Darrin told me all about the fight.”
Darrin cleared his throat and shifted his weight, though he didn’t pull his arm away from Marriset. “That makes it seem more dramatic than it was.”
Jayveh looked sharply at Argent, strands of diamond earrings swaying near her long neck. “What fight?”
“Nothing to be alarmed about,” Argent hurried to assure her. “Carver and Rivard got carried away in the training yard. It’s nothing, really. They both went to see the high cleric.”
Marriset chuckled. “Rivard’s nose is terribly bruised. But then, it shouldn’t surprise us that Carver won the fight. He is the emperor’s favorite general, after all. And Westmont is known for raising the best soldiers. Didn’t you go there to train, Your Highness?”
“I did,” Argent said. “So did Rivard. We all met there.” His distaste with Rivard was clear to Amryn’s empathic sense, though the others didn’t seem to see anything past his diplomatic tone.
Amryn was more focused on her own emotions, however. Surprise, that Carver had attacked Rivard. Something like irritation that Marriset had known about the fight before her. She should probably feel uneasy at the fact that Carver had beaten someone, but when Amryn glimpsed Rivard’s purpled and swollen nose from across the room, she only felt thin satisfaction. After the way he’d been treating Tam, he deserved it.
Jayveh turned to Amryn. “We should get you a drink.”
Since it would take her away from Marriset, Amryn readily agreed.
Jayveh moved to step away, but Argent swept her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I’ll miss you,” he said.
Jayveh smiled, joy and love sparking inside her. “I’m not even leaving the room.”
“You’re leaving my side, though.”
Her expression softened. She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll return soon,” she promised.