Page 170 of Heat of the Everflame

“I’ll drink to that.”

I clinked my glass to his and downed a large sip. Taran, refusing to be outdone, chugged half the bottle in one go.

“Has anyone ever told you that you might have a drinking problem?” I asked, only half joking.

“Alixe and Luther, sometimes.” He scowled. “My brother, daily.”

“Do you ever think they might be right?”

He shot me a look. “Do you want to talk about why you were crying?”

I glared. He smirked. We both threw back another guzzle.

The sound of creaking doors floated through the room. We turned as a group to see Yrselle striding in. Her body was nearly bare, save for an embroidered dragon with emerald eyes that wrapped around her intimate areas, its gold-tipped wings splaying into a gauzy train that floated in her wake.

Behind her, the female Centenaries followed in two lines, each wearing matching skimpy crimson slips that draped low on their chests and even lower on their backs. Another small group followed, its members androgynous in appearance. Their outfits were crafted from the same fabric, the designs more varied but equally revealing.

“They know how to make an entrance,” Alixe said.

“I think I’m overdressed,” Luther muttered.

“I thinkI’moverdressed,” I agreed.

Finally, Symond led in two lines of swaggering men. They ranged from svelte to muscular, but all wore scarlet satin pants slung outrageously low on their hips, their oiled bodies gleaming beneath sheer mesh tops.

Taran leaned into my side and grinned. “That’smy type.”

Chapter

Thirty-Six

We sat at a long, narrow table that stretched the length of the room, the center piled high with arrangements of food, flowers, and candles. Yrselle and I shared the place of honor at the center on opposite sides. On her right, Symond had the perfect position to throw smug glances at Luther, seated to my left. Taran sat beside Luther, while Alixe and Zalaric sat to my right.

Courses came and went as conversation probed the details of my life as a mortal, something Yrselle and her ilk found fascinating. Though I tried to sate their curiosity, it was hard to say which was more distracting: the Queen’s sharp-edged questions, Symond’s relentless flirting, or the way Luther leaned in his chair so his arm brushed mine with every gesture. I felt a bit like a favorite doll being fought over by siblings.

It didn’t help that the noise in the hall echoed deafeningly off the marble walls. Ever since arriving in Umbros, I’d found it difficult to think around more than a handful of people. Even the hushed whispers penetrated my thoughts and competed for my focus.

As wine flowed, I began to wear thin, and my answers grew shorter and snippier. Alixe smoothly interceded, maneuvering the topic to safer waters.

“When you said your Centenaries would attend this dinner, I didn’t think you truly meantall,” she said. “Is no one guarding the city?”

“We have our ways of guarding it from afar,” Symond answered with a cryptic smile.

“What about new boats arriving at the docks? Have you closed the port for the night?”

A Centenary down the table scoffed. “The Umbros portnevercloses.”

“Even the Blood War never shut us down,” Symond agreed. “Your presence certainly won’t.”

“Does that mean the ships passing through tonight will go untaxed?” Alixe asked.

“Never,” another Centenary hissed. “Her Majesty always gets her share.”

“Drink!” Taran cheered, raising his glass.

I winced. Over the course of the night, Taran had turned the discussion into a one-man drinking game: Symond pokes at Luther? A small sip. Someone gloats about the Queen’s absolute control of her city? Take a drink. A Centenary propositions one of us for sex? Finish his glass.

“But how can you collect payments?” I asked.

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