Page 49 of The Exile's Curse

"What?" He almost stumbled again, shocked by both the idea and the fact that she had mentioned it. Hardly a suggestion that could have pleased her.

She laughed as he caught himself. He stared at her, and she went still. In the dim light, her pupils were wide, but there was amusement lurking in the depths. Amusement and—his breath caught again. He'd seen her smiling at Charl like that many times. Dark-eyed and happy and not entirely hiding the fact that she intended to drag her husband off to bed at the closest opportunity.

Why was she looking at him that way?

She wasn't was the short answer, merely intoxicated. He tore his gaze away, tried to ignore the heat coiling through him, and started walking.

"Don't worry," Chloe said. "I told her we wouldn't suit."

Oh, they would suit. He knew that much. Had always known it. But he couldn't say it. He’d never been able to say it. And he wasn't going to take advantage of this small moment when she was—kafiet influenced or not—warming to him ever so slightly to make a fool of himself now.

"Good," he said. "They take marriage seriously around here. Let's not start any trouble. What else did you talk about? What did the seer say?"

The amusement faded from Chloe's face. "Not much. She called me ‘daughter of ravens’ and then wandered off again. I'm not sure I like her much. She reminds me of Domina Skey."

Daughter of ravens? Well, that was apt. But a strange thing to call somebody upon first meeting. "In what way?"

"She likes power," Chloe said.

"Many people do," he countered. "I would think you'd be pleased that a woman can hold a high rank here."

She shrugged. "It depends how they got it. It's odd that we haven't met any of their...what do they call the priests?"

"Svasyas," he said. "King Mikvel said they undertake some sort of ritual prior to commencing the wedding rituals. He mentioned ice water and prayer. It didn't sound appealing. I'm sure we won't be able to move without tripping over one in a day or so."

"Is Deephilm like you remembered?" Chloe asked as they turned another corridor.

"Mostly. More cordial, which is nice. Though still somewhat wary. At least I'm not actively prosecuting one of them for treason this time. That helps." Though still hunting for signs of it.

That made her smile slowly. "I would imagine so. Though I got the impression that Katiya thinks the wedding is...solemn. I don't know if that's usual or if I imagined it."

"Solemn?"

"She made a comment that the gatherings should be enjoyable. But the matter of House Elannon must be making things more difficult, perhaps."

"Possibly." Chloe was new at this, but he had never doubted her instincts. He hadn't detected any hint of falsehood in the king's welcome or during their discussion after dinner, but he was yet to meet any of the Ashmeisters, let alone representatives of House Elannon. The first of those was to be held tomorrow. He wasn't entirely looking forward to it, though it would, at least, give him some idea what they were facing in navigating the Andalyssian court.

It was part of the reason he'd wanted to walk Chloe back to her room. A small part, perhaps but it was still there lurking in the back of his thoughts. He would keep her safe in this palace carved into a mountain, no matter what else happened.

"You've gone quiet," she said.

"It's late," he said. "People are sleeping." They'd reached the end of the corridor where their rooms were located. Chloe's was at the far end, whereas his was second from the turn of the hallway. A wise man would leave her to walk the remaining few hundred feet on her own. There was no one lurking in the corridor.

But he didn't want to bring this to an end any sooner than he had to. In the morning, she would wake and no longer feel any kafiet-fueled kindness toward him. And he would have to miss her all over again. Forget this glimpse of his friend and bury his feelings deep.

Tonight though, he had maybe a minute more. Chloe stretched her arm out, running her hand over the tapestries that lined the walls between each door. She was smiling again, relaxed and open.

"Pretty," she said.

"Yes," he agreed, though he wasn't talking about the tapestries. "Very. Practical, too. Makes it warmer."

"Maybe I should take up needlework," she said. "Something to do on long journeys."

"You used to say needlework was dull," he said.

She tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder. "I used to say many things. Many of them foolish." Her smile was lopsided, and sadness flashed over her face.

He didn’t like seeing her sad. "It wasn't foolish to love Charl," he said. "Or, if it was, then we are both fools. He didn't start out the man he ended up being."

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