Page 81 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
My hands flew to my hips. “So, there is something to talk about?”
He pulled me away from the rest of the guests into a small hall, alone.
“Lyr, you have to promise you won’t overreact.”
“I’ll promise after I decide if what you’re about to tell me deserves an overreaction.”
“Lyr.”
“Gods, Tristan. Just tell me already.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “Last week, Naria came to me, and…she offered herself.”
“She what!” I turned to storm back into the room and punch her—magical soturion strength or no.
“No, wait!” He grabbed my arm. Wine sloshed onto my hand. “I told her no, of course not.”
“She offered herself! To you! When I was in a prison cell!”
“Lyr.”
“The week I was locked up and supposed to be engaged to you!”
“I refused her! She thought…she thought Ka Grey wanted an alliance with Ka Batavia…just not with you.”
The truth of that burned through me. “And she actually thought she had a chance with you?”
“Well….” He looked down again.
“Tristan! What in Lumeria are you not telling me?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing. Just….” He sighed. “Nothing happened between us. Nothing at all. Not last week.”
My eyes widened, and my chest rose and fell with a violent exhale. “Explain.”
“Do you remember the summer solstice three years ago? The forsworn bastard was visiting.”
The night I’d danced with Rhyan. The night we’d kissed.
“What about it?” I asked carefully.
“I was dancing with Naria, and….”
“You slept with her!” I yelled.
His hand was on my mouth a second later. “Shhh. Lyr. No! But…close.”
I threw my hand against the wall, needing to find my balance. I’d known Naria carried a torch for Tristan, and that he’d had…well, he’d had quite a few affairs before me. He’d always kept quiet to avoid Lady Romula’s wrath and had taken every measure possible to avoid pregnancy. I was the first girl he’d ever openly courted. But put in context against my imprisonment and what had almost happened between us the other night…knowing Naria had gone to him…had once kissed him, touched him….
“I’m going to kill her,” I seethed.
“No, you’re not,” he said gently. “You’re going to calm down because it meant nothing. Remember why we’re here.” He took my hand to his lips and kissed it.
I barely had time to react, to remember to soften my hand under his touch. To submit, to be in love. But I was furious. This was unbelievable. My own cousin had tried to undo my engagement and stuck her little lackey Pavi to attack me today. I could still feel the cold ice water running down my back. And now to learn she’d kissed him, touched him…it made me sick.
But Tristan, as furious with him as I was in that moment, was right. I took a deep breath. I had to be calm. I needed my boyfriend’s Godsdamned grandmother to bless our engagement in order to protect myself from exile. My nostrils flared, and I could feel my chest heaving despite the deep breaths.
“Fine,” I snapped.
