Smiling at the thought, he strode through the short hallway and entered the archives. The room was lit only by magic, and the dim glow gave the endless shelves a solemn, almost gloomy appearance. There were few tables, since only royals and the highest level archivists were allowed access, so it didn’t take long to find Ria.
Ria…slumped across the table.
Mehl broke into a run, reaching her side almost before he could process the scene. Nearly frantic, he bent over her and pressed his fingers against her pulse as he scanned her body for injury. Only to immediately feel foolish—her breathing was slow and steady, proof enough of life. She was…sleeping?
Gods above. He’d thought there’d been a real assassin.
His heartbeat slowed its frantic pace as he noted the way her head was nestled into the crook of her arm. Her mouth was slightly open, a tiny hint of drool in the corner, and he grinned at the sight. At least the book she’d been reading was on theotherside of her arm.
Poor Ria. They’d all been on edge the last week or two, and none of them had slept well. Considering how often they’d also made love…
A knock sounded on the door, and Ria stirred. Mehl stepped back, just in time to avoid a collision when she jerked upright with startling speed. “What? Who…?”
Ria rubbed her palms against her eyes and then blinked up at Mehl. If not for yet another knock, he would have kissed her. “Did we keep you up too late last night, Ria?”
“Maybe.” She grinned. “But that’s not exactly unusual.”
Mehl tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “We should let you sleep tonight.”
“Don’t you dare—” A third knock cut across her words. This time, Ria sighed before calling out, “Enter.”
The door opened, but the servant stopped just inside the entrance. He held a silver tray with a note on top—a note that trembled like a fallen leaf in the breeze thanks to the man’s shaking hands. Mehl smiled. There was something about this room that tended to have that effect, almost as though the kingdom’s history had a force all its own. Or maybe it was simply its forbidden nature.
“Pardon me, Your Majesty,” the servant said. “I have a message for Her Grace. Feref bid me to bring it in his stead.”
Mehl accepted the note and carried it to Ria, anxious to hear what it said. Had Feref and Sir Macoe finalized arrangements for Tes’s arrival?
It only took Ria a moment to read. “Well, then. It seems my cousin is almost here. I should head for the receiving room.”
Mehl wanted to relax at the words, but he couldn’t. Another plan nearly completed—butnearlywas still too far fromcompletely.
Chapter46
Integrations
Ria kept her steps measured as she and Mehl headed toward a small receiving room near the throne room. Blessedly, this meeting wasn’t formal enough to require the main receiving room where she, Toren, and Mehl had first sealed the breeding contract. She wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eye while standing next to the throne where the kings had claimed her. No, this meeting would take place in more of a sitting area, one favored for generations by royal spouses and consorts for just this purpose.
They arrived before Tes, which Ria supposed was some matter of etiquette. It wasn’t something Ria had run across yet in any of the books she’d grabbed in the royal archives, but finding anything there that wasn’t too detailed for her needs was nearly impossible. She hardly needed to know the finer points of negotiating a trade deal while being a guest in another kingdom—she needed to know how to survive daily court life.
Ria dropped onto an overstuffed chair and rubbed at her lower back. The latest text had been so unrepentantly dull that her lack of sleep had caught up with her, and now her back suffered from the way she’d slumped over the table to nap. The book hadn’t even been useful, either. She would give the archives one more search before she asked for help. It wasn’t as though her lack of knowledge was a secret.
The entire castle was probably waiting for her imminent failure.
Mehl sat in the chair beside hers. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“No,” Ria answered automatically, though she wasn’t sure it was true. Nerves had her heart pounding and her stomach roiling. “But I suppose I’m anxious to see how my cousin is faring.”
She’d almost said “Tes,” a habit that could cause a real problem. One slip could ruin all they’d done to protect the princess’s identity. Nor could they refer to her as Lora. Instead, the princess had chosen Ryssa as her new name. Though a blend of Lora and Etessa, the name was common enough that it shouldn’t arouse suspicion.
A servant entered through a side door and placed a tea tray on the table next to Ria. She tried not to grimace at the elaborate setup with its many cups and plates and spoons. She could pour a basic cup of tea without spilling, of course, but she had a feeling something so simple would have an elaborate series of rules here. The upper classes always came up with such random, pointless things to weed out the likes of her.
Mehl’s frown was for her, though, not the tea service. “Do you dislike tea? You’re practically glaring at it.”
Had she been? “I was merely wondering how complicated it will be to drink it.”
“Ah.” Comprehension cleared the worry from Mehl’s face. “Not as much as you might think, but more than you’re probably prepared for. I wouldn’t worry over it at the moment, though. Your cousin won’t know our court etiquette either, and I hardly care. It’s a waste of time as far as I’m concerned.”
She should have known he’d understand, since he was a former bodyguard. But of course, her “cousin” probably had more rules of etiquette memorized than Ria and Mehl combined. Tes—Ryssa—wouldn’t be able to say anything about it, but she would see every misstep. Why did that bother Ria so much?