Page 114 of A War of Crowns

He paused when his eyes locked with those belonging to the Duke of Coreto himself. “Lord Beaumont,” the duke warmly greeted him, “you are looking well this evening.”

“As are you, Your Grace,” Tiberius carefully returned the compliment. The moment the Duke of Coreto released his shoulder, he took the hem of his doublet in hand and gave the garment a swift tug to smooth it back into place. “Where’s your son, then?” he asked. “I had thought to speak with him.”

More like mock Lord Bennett for his terrible conduct at this sort of affair, but there was no need to tell the duke that.

“Ah, you know Bennett. He is around here”—the duke flicked a glance about the ballroom—“somewhere.” When his cool gaze snapped back to Tiberius, Coreto invited, “Walk with me a moment?”

After a beat of hesitation, Tiberius moved to follow.

Never had the duke paid him a lick of attention, despite the fact that until only recently, Tiberius had been one of the most influential men at court. One could only wonder what Coreto might want from him now his star had utterly fallen.

“You know, young man,” the duke began in a casual drawl, “your father and I used to be very close…”

Those words earned a tight smile from Tiberius’s lips. “Yes, I believe on his deathbed, he mentioned you owed him some money.”

It took the Duke of Coreto the span of a few uncomfortable moments before he finally recognized the jest for what it was. He laughed. “You’re quick on your feet, my lord. In more ways than one, I might add.”

Tiberius cast a sidelong glance toward the older nobleman, studying his features in profile.

The duke sneered, “Thatduelbetween you and the Crow—if one could even call it a duel—was truly barbaric. Her Majesty should have seen His Highness’s commoner punished for daring start the entire altercation in the first place.”

“Of course,” Tiberius murmured, though a growing sense of unease crawled its way across the back of his neck. Here, he and the duke stood just on the brink of very dangerous ground. As if they had both just arrived at the banks of a frosted pond together, with no manner of knowing just how thick the ice was.

Nor how deep the waters beneath.

Halting mid-step, Tiberius turned toward the duke and bowed his head. “You flatter me, Your Grace, but I truly must go and find Lord Bennett now.”

Coreto’s smile was thin and his pale eyes cool when he dipped his head in return and quietly offered, “Naturally. Do give my love to my son for me, won’t you, Lord Beaumont? He has always been so terribly fond of you, you know.”

Liar.

He and Bennett had only ever tolerated each other’s company. But it would have been gauche to call the Duke of Coreto on his falsehoods to his face.

Tiberius hurried from the duke’s side and skirted around the edges of the dance floor. His eyes desperately hunted for the queen again, for therein lay his true destination. She had been avoiding him ever since her return from Nerina Reef.

But he would no longer be ignored.

There.

During his brief time with Coreto, the song had changed and so had her partner. Now, she danced with the Ambassador of Drakmor and looked none too happy about it.

Drawing in a deep breath, Tiberius counted the beats of the music and watched the swirl of the dancers. He waited until the perfect moment when he could finally sweep his way in front of the Drakmori Ambassador and take the other man’s place in the line.

Such had been quite the style when he was a younger man—a cheeky little way to claim a dance with a lady who was too popular to be danced with otherwise.

One, two…

On the count of three, Tiberius finally made his move. The shift was so seamless, he couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the clear confusion on Lord Ezzo’s face when the Drakmori realized he was no longer part of the current dance and had no partner to return to.

Her Majesty looked equally confused for all of a moment, but the smile that claimed her lips after the initial confusion had faded warmed him all the way down to his toes. It was the sort of smile he couldn’t help but return in kind.

Therewas his queen.

“Tiberius!” Her Majesty gasped, pure delight in her tone. “You are terrible.” Peeking around him, she added on a lower note, “I imagine Ambassador Ezzo is quite furious with you at the moment.”

“Let him be,” Tiberius murmured, his voice as smooth as velvet when he added with one of his most charming smiles, “I have what I want.”

He traced the path of that flush across her cheeks and waited for her to reprimand him for being so bold in his speech. He waited for her to chastise him, to show she was still just as cross as she had been that evening in the garden.

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