Perhaps she would make it through this after all.
* * *
Centuries of practiceallowed Toren to maintain a calm, disinterested demeanor, but there was little he missed at the tables below. As he ate the last bite of pastry, he added yet another name to his list of people to watch—Lord Bielen. The man was too shrewd to reveal his feelings openly, but Toren was not fooled by the veil he attempted to throw over his contempt. Bielen had hoped one of his three daughters would be in Ria’s place, and he might yet cause trouble in an attempt to make that so.
Mehl’s mind brushed his.“When are you going to make the announcement?”
“After this course,”Toren assured him.“I wanted everyone well settled.”
And less guarded. Aside from Ria’s presence, the only real difference in this meal from any others was that he hadn’t invited a handful of courtiers to join him and Mehl. Those invitations generally rotated enough that the nobles were accustomed to their current seating arrangements, and easing into routine allowed the courtiers to relax into greater complacency. Their reactions to the announcement would thus be more genuine.
More servants approached to remove their plates again, and Mehl went still beside him. Though his expression didn’t shift in an obvious way, Toren knew that watchful pose well. But who had inspired it? Toren followed his husband’s gaze to the young man who’d just reached for Ria’s plate. A new servant? Could that be the cause?
Kerelin had warned Toren a week or so back that she might need to replace some of her staff. With Mehl in charge of many of the household details, he should have learned the same, but even after all this time, he wasn’t as comfortable as Toren with the myriad servants. No doubt only love kept Mehl from fleeing to the training grounds instead of listening to menu ideas and cleaning schedules.
The servants stepped back, and Toren no longer had time to consider Mehl’s caution. Lifting his hand, he caught Feref’s eye and gave a slight nod to signal him. While the chamberlain ensured the next course was held back, Toren waited for the room to quiet. It didn’t take long. Too many had been eyeing the High Table for the gesture to go unnoticed.
“Now that the edge of hunger is sated, I bid you direct your attention to my words,” Toren said, projecting his voice. “It has surely not gone unnoticed that our table boasts only one guest, and a stranger to you, at that. As was announced upon her entry, a new Duchess of Nevial has been named. You will give Lady Ria Orindl all the respect due her station.”
This time, there were no murmurs, simply an expectant hush. Only the foolish hadn’t guessed what was coming.
“In addition,” Toren began, placing his hand on Mehl’s, “It is our honor to announce that Lady Ria has accepted the role of consort in order to carry our heir. She is therefore afforded the highest honors and will be treated accordingly. As all know the threat of my brother’s challenge, I expect each noble in this court to place Lady Ria, royal consort and your future sovereign’s mother, in your highest regard.”
It wouldn’t stop the worst of them from slighting Ria, regardless of Ber’s threat—a simple glance around the room had Toren rearranging his mental list of potential troublemakers. But at least now, his intentions would be indisputably clear. They would mistreat Ria at great peril.
Message delivered, Toren gestured at Feref to resume the meal.
* * *
If not forthat blasted servant, Mehl would have trained his attention on the lower tables during his husband’s announcement so he could make note of potential trouble. Instead, his every instinct screamed to keep an eye on the man waiting behind them. Not literally, unfortunately. Until he stepped forward to deliver the next course, the servant was out of sight. Even with his face turned toward Toren, Mehl couldn’t see the other man out of the corner of his eye.
But he couldn’t stop trying.
For the second time that day, his hand clenched reflexively around an invisible sword hilt. His mind couldn’t pin down the source of the danger, but deep inside, heknew. And if Mehl had learned one thing during his decades of training and centuries of service, it was to heed that inner voice.
He barely registered when Toren stopped speaking and almost missed his husband’s signal to Feref to continue the meal. With the announcement done, Mehl couldn’t keep staring without raising questions, so he shifted his attention momentarily to Ria. He tipped his lips into a smile that was more show than substance.
Let the courtiers believe he was paying extra attention to their new consort—looking at her also allowed him to view the approaching servants.
He sensed Toren’s gaze on him.“What is it?”
“I’m not…”
The mystery servant appeared at Ria’s side, depositing her plate on the table with a flourish. A familiar one. But where—? Sudden memory cut through the disguise, superimposing the image of the jaunty bard on his mind’s eye. The woman had donned a wig and applied cosmetics to add illusion to the lines of her face, but there was no mistaking the truth.
It was the Centoi’s herald.
“You,” Mehl said, and alarm flashed for a moment in the traitor’s eyes before she covered it with feigned shock.
Before he could say more, Ria lifted her fork, and Mehl’s attention was drawn to her plate. Were those the usual spices the cook sprinkled across the roast vegetables? The normal sauce drizzled over her cut of roast? He couldn’t let her take a bite.
Formality be damned.
Mehl leaned over Toren to grip Ria’s forearm in a strong hold. She gasped, but he ignored the hurt in her questioning eyes. “Drop the fork, Ria.”
The clatter of metal on wood echoed through the tomb-quiet hall.
But it didn’t quite cover the rustle of fabric as their spy turned and fled.