Page 62 of The Mad King and the False Queen

“My deepest condolences,” Sabien said. There was something about his low, melodic voice that made her chest tighten. He was too close to her. If he shifted forward in his chair, he could touch her. One movement under the table and his leg could reach hers.

“Thank you,” she said. “Maybe one day you can return to Azurem when you aren’t caught up in personal affairs.”

There was a tug at his lip as though he suppressed a smirk. “Maybe after this marriage I will be welcomed in Azurem. I wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Nonsense. After the marriage and a new alliance, you would be welcome.”

“A welcomed distraction, perhaps.”

Like she had used him as a distraction at the tavern.

She met his gaze, holding steadfast as she said, “I guess only time will tell.”

They were playing a game of cat and mouse. Dagmara just had to find out if she was the cat or the mouse.

She let her eyes wander, attempting to ignore his stare. That’s when she noticed a row of purple plants dotting the cobblestone path. She nearly gasped. Was that leku? It was an herb used as a remedy for zowach. The herb that could save her brother’s life was simply sunbathing at the Ilusaurian palace?

She could feel her fingers begin to prickle with anger. One more reason to detest King Claude. His country was lacking resources, Azurem was lacking medicine, and he had the audacity to flaunt leku like it was a common flower. Teos needed that. All she had to do was snatch a handful and send it home where an apothecary could turn it into medicine. A handful wouldn’t be enough for Azurem to heal everyone, nor would it be enough to plant some of their own, but it would be enough for Teos.

“Do you like gardening, Princess?” The suave voice snapped her out of her thoughts but didn’t diminish the anger boiling in the pit of her stomach.

Dagmara cleared her throat before returning her attention to him. “Not really.”

Sabien leaned forward in his chair. “I saw you eyeing our leku. Are you into medicines…potions perhaps?”

Potions. He was testing her. “I was just admiring the view, Captain, nothing more.” She flashed a half-smile, hoping she was channeling Magda’s trained royal mannerisms somehow. Maybe she should sit up straighter?

“Well, in that case I’m also admiring the view.” He let his eyes scan her bodice and her lips before returning to her eyes.

Warmth flooded Dagmara’s entire body, and she felt her stomach curl. It took everything inside her not to let her mouth drop in shock. She was taken by his forwardness, but also taken by how quickly he transformed her emotions. He smirked, noticing the effect he had on her, which only made her heart rate increase. His face was beautiful enough, but that smile was deadly.

To her relief, she saw Martine returning to the table, but she wasn’t alone. King Claude, Madame Annette, and an entourage of servants and guards were approaching. Two guards flanked Claude on either side. They had to be his main guards, just as Martine belonged to Dagmara. The younger one was recognizable as the boy who had pulled her from the balcony yesterday. Pierre. The other was massive, towering half a foot above everyone in the clearing.

Sabien was immediately on his feet, returning completely to his professional demeanor. Dagmara struggled to follow suit, feeling her entire body threaten to drag her unconscious as she stood in formality.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything,” Claude said, his tone even as he reached the table. He, for one, cleaned up nicely.

Servants pulled out the chairs for both the king and his royal advisor while Martine took up a spot on the edge of the terrace. She was spread out evenly with the other guards.

A glass was set down in front of Dagmara, filled to the rim with ice water. Then, a small wooden bowl was placed down next to the silverware filled with pink rock salt. Startled, Dagmara rocked back in her seat.

“I noticed you found my kingdom’s salt lacking yesterday,” Claude said. “This is straight from the salt mines.”

“I can see that,” Dagmara replied with a tilt of her head.

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s just…” Dagmara noticed Annette’s fixated glare.

Claude leaned forward. “You may speak freely, Princess,” he growled.

“In Azurem, we usually shave it down to be more like a spice. To sprinkle on top.”

“To…sprinkle?” Claude’s eyebrows wavered, but he didn’t have time to elaborate.

A servant approached the table with a large pitcher and a spare tasting glass. “Wine for the table.” His nose was slightly crooked, and sweat beaded his brow.

“I don’t drink while on duty,” Sabien replied, flipping his glass down. He looked directly at the servant and said, “No wine today.”

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