Page 19 of Court of Secrets and Flames

A hundred pairs of eyes track my short journey up to the head of the table. As I draw near, the soft tap of my slippers against the marble floor punctuates the silence. Rhiann’s insistence on the soft shoes suddenly makes perfect sense, and I vow to thank her at the next opportunity.

Instead of cringing over the loud slapping of my hard-soled heels on the marble floor, I can focus on holding my shoulders back and refusing to reveal how all the attention frays my nerves.

A few people smile at me, which I ignore considering they likely sat in that amphitheater with those same expressions while Leesa and I came close to dying.

Even still, each step feels like as much a declaration as much as my assigned seat at the king’s right hand. The dowager queen sits at his left.

My sister winds up at one end of the table. So much for having a conversation with her. It will have to wait. Knox sits on the other side of his mother.

Thank the gods. At least I won’t be tempted to gaze at him while I’m dining beside the king.

Bone white plates are laid out at every place, complete with crystal glasses and shiny cutlery.

A herald of dishes parades before us, each announced with ceremonial flair by the king’s personal chef. Duck broth infused with crushed mint comes first, arriving in tiny, delicate bowls.

After observing what my companions do, I sip directly from the vessel, the broth’s liquid warmth spreading through me, a fleeting comfort amid the tapestry of watchful eyes and hidden agendas. Around us, conversations spark up. While I might be the honored guest, I am not the main topic of talk.

And that suits me just fine.

Refined chatter ebbs and flows around me, the clinking of fine silver upon porcelain a delicate symphony. Each noble flanks me with conversational gambits, and I try to take stock of the nearby faces and any useful bits of information that reach my ears. Because I’m not deluding myself. The king can call me his guest of honor all he wants, but esteemed guests typicallychooseto visit rather than visit by way of kidnapping from another kingdom.

For the time being, remaining in Tirene suits my interests. That could change at any moment, though, and when it does, Leesa and I need to be ready.

The king’s discourse reigns over the center of the table.

Though I try to stay attentive, my gaze wanders, and snippets of other exchanges drift to my ears on the fragrant air.My name surfaces often, but there are too many simultaneous discussions for me to decipher any specifics.

I can’t tell if I’m disappointed or relieved.

I do know I’m on edge as I wait for the king to aim his attention at me and bring up this morning’s debacle. But the bastard is either oblivious or toying with me, because he barely acknowledges my existence.

Whatever game this is, I hate it.

Shifting in my seat ever so slightly, I catch a glimpse of Knox. His expressive dark eyes light up with affection as he converses with his mother. He starts to lift his head, like he can sense me watching. Remembering his earlier warning, I avert my gaze.

The last thing I need is for the king to catch me ogling his baby brother.

Servants present us with dishes, each more decadent than the last. Clear bouillon with leeks. Pressed peacock. Eels cooked in fennel and garlic…ew.

Roast mutton and fawn marinated in blackberry wine. Broiled trout stuffed with herbs nestled among baby potatoes. Buttered cheese tarts with flaky crusts.

A parade of delicacies, yet I can barely eat. Instead, I remain vigilant, the undercurrents of power and intrigue never far from my mind. Yet another gilded cage, one where I’m both guest and spectacle.

I vow to myself that one day soon, my freedom will never again fall under someone else’s control.

A delicious-looking dessert of sugared berries and cream arrives, along with iced wine with sugar comfits.

If this dinner turns out to be an elaborate set up for offing me, I’ll regret not stuffing my face with a last meal.

I dart a glance at where Leesa sits, engrossed in conversation with a young man who appears a few years older than her. Though her head tils toward his, his eyes are on me.

As soon as he notices my attention, he looks away, as if worried to be caught staring.

A little weird, but whatever. I’m just glad my sister and I are finally back together. We’ve been co-conspirators since childhood. If anyone can help me find the information I seek, it’s Leesa.

King Jasper doesn’t understand the trouble he invited into his palace, but if he messes with us, I vow that he will.

The longer Jasper goes without mentioning the dragoncaller test, the more jittery my nerves become. And it’s not just me. The tension in the entire room keeps building as people wait for the king to explain my spot in the place of honor beside him.

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