Page 91 of Heir to His Court

Raniel let us bicker, his aura indulgent but wary when his mind touched mine, as if he abruptly recalled that I wasn't above murdering his relatives when they pissed me off.

I am constantly forced to remind them,Darkan murmured.

Dinner, otherwise, was uneventful, and therefore the tedium drove me to tears. My horse, my House, by the Realms, anything to escape the webs of political conversations. I'd intercepted one too many meaningful glances—the courtiers would descend on me soon. Rumors I was the Prince's consort were one thing, public confirmation we were bonded and soon to wed, was quite another.

The gloves, so to speak, were off.

I almost banged my head against the table. I had some dignity, however. Some.

You will have to pay attention and learn, Aerinne,Darkan said.

I know, I know. But not today. By the Realms, don't you think I have enough to think about?

He only sighed. What could he say?

I needed space, and quiet. I stood abruptly. Raniel broke off his conversation with my father, drawing his finger along the back of my hand.

“Princess?”

“I need a quiet minute,” I told him. “I'll return.”

He nodded. I snatched my wine glass, the bottle next to Baroun, and strolled into the forest.

Renaud found these forests peaceful. Maybe it was the sense of ancient grandeur. Maybe the dense shadows, the feeling that if one walked deep enough then the trees would accept you into their embrace. Permanently, which sounded real good to me right now.

I was seriously tempted to test that theory. I wouldn't mind a few hours lost in the forest, but my bonded would only hunt me down. The distant brush of his watchful attention hovered in the back of my mind. I would be shocked to learn there were no White Guard ghosting along the treetops, keeping a watch over the new Princess of Everenne—Raniel's delicate flower.

Belching demonstrated what I thought of that. There was no one to hear, and this was what privacy was for after all.

I tossed the wine glass and drained the bottle, confronting the problem with disappearing into the forest.

No handy servers to open a fresh bottle. Raniel hadn't objected to my drinking this time, but I suspected that's because he was choosing his battles. It could also be because after tonight, he planned to rid the palace of wine entirely which would make an argument over my drinking moot.

“Bastard,” I muttered.

Especially if he also planned to not let me out of the palace. He'd said nothing when I told Baba I would be home soon. The wrong kind of nothing. The kind of nothing that said you already knew you had the upper hand and there was no use rubbing the loser's face in your victory, especially when the loser had little compunction against making a public scene.

And all of her relatives would happily join in.

Hmm. House Faronne had been shockingly well behaved the last several weeks. We were due for a—

I shut that thought down.

I was learning. Ha!

I punched a fist toward the sky in triumph at this obvious evidence of personal growth, then staggered because the ground dared move under my feet. I snarled at the insolent dirt.

I was possibly drunk.

Sending out signals,I said to no one and everyone in my head and staggered toward a comfy looking tree and settled beneath it, arranging my skirt just so. I had no intention of walking back on my own feet. That was what bonded males and cousins and sworn guards were for.

“Rinne!” A male dropped out of the trees.

I blinked at Numair. “Huh. That was fast. Raniel summoned you?” I hadn't realized Numair or Juliette were present. I'd assumed Baba left them at home for reasons that had to do with big mouths, tattered manners, and a volatile Prince. “Maybe he's maturing. I could have sworn he hated your—”

“You're drunk.” He seized my wrist and hauled me to my feet. “As usual, when there is no one convenient to kill.”

He was right, of course. Maybe we should explore the idea of tourneys. It had already been at the back of my mind that the sudden cessation of the feud left several Houses worth of warriors with nothing productive to do with their time. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

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