Page 20 of Path of the Dark
Elias put down the knife he’d been using to slice his quail. Nathan was making a point it seemed—Ryana wasn’t the only one who suspected Elias of still wishing Ninia harm.
Days of negotiations had started to stretch Nathan’s patience. Tonight, the king had an agenda. Elias would need to be wary of him.
“The Swallow Throne belongs to my father now,” Elias reminded him.
Nathan’s mouth twisted. “Blood is blood.”
“And steel is steel,” Elias countered. “The strong conquer the weak. It’s the way of things.”
A tense silence settled upon the table. The queen’s delicate face drew taut, while Nathan’s expression darkened.
Across the table, Ninia watched Elias, her gaze narrowing. “Did you kill my family?” she asked, her voice low.
The directness of the girl’s question threw Elias. This was the last thing he wanted to discuss, yet he understood why she’d want to know. “Not personally, no,” he replied, meeting her eye. “My father took The Swallow Keep, while I secured the city. By the time I entered the palace, your family were all dead.”
It was the truth.
Ninia held his gaze. “Where did it happen?”
“Ninia,” Eldia interjected softly. “Perhaps, it’s best not to—”
Ninia ignored the queen. “Where did Reoul slaughter my mother, father, and brothers?”
“In the throne room,” Elias replied. “They made their last stand there, surrounded by The Swallow Guard.”
Ninia’s throat bobbed, her hazel eyes glistening. Observing her, Elias felt an unexpected pang of sympathy—and respect. The young woman’s self-possession was admirable. Inhaling deeply, she reached for her goblet of wine and took a large gulp.
“The people of Thûn will never accept your father as their ruler.” Nathan spoke up, shattering the tension. The king leaned back on his chair now, his expression inscrutable as he watched Elias. “I hear half of Veldoras starves so his army can eat. He’ll only ever be a dictator to them.”
The doors to the banquet chamber swung open then and servants entered. They brought the main course to the table: a rich boar stew accompanied by a selection of breads and steamed vegetables.
Elias let out a deep exhale. It was a welcome reprieve.
The aroma of the gamey stew drifted across the table, reminding Elias of Santino and his dislike for the heavy northern dishes. Elias wasn’t quite as fussy. After years of campaigning, he ate whatever was placed before him.
He helped himself to more food, aware that the mood at the table had now shifted. Ninia had been smiling earlier, yet her gaze was shadowed now. The queen had gone pale, and Nathan watched him like a stalking wolf.
Ignoring the king, Elias focused his attention on Ninia. He had to be careful with her, and he didn’t want Nathan ruining his chances of getting close to her. “War is brutal,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I wish there had been another way to take Veldoras.”
Ninia’s mouth thinned. “Like you said, the strong conquer the weak.”
Elias reached for a piece of bread. “Unfortunately … that’s the way of it.”
“And yet, here you are … the son of a dictator working for peace.” Nathan’s voice rumbled across the chamber. “Doesn’t that strike you as ironic?”
Elias leaned back in his chair, meeting Nathan’s eye once more. He realized now why the king had invited him to supper. It hadn’t been a gesture of warm Rithmar hospitality—despite the fact that the negotiations were progressing well, Nathan was still suspicious of his Anthor guest. He was trying to corner Elias, to get him to reveal his hand.
However, Nathan had just unwittingly given Elias the opportunity to change the subject. Eagerly, he took it. “Enough blood has been spilled,” he replied, holding the king’s gaze. “Until now, I’ve dedicated my life to war. But it can’t go on … eventually there must be peace if we are all to prosper. I want a different future for the people of our kingdoms.”
The rest of the supper passed slowly, the atmosphere so tense that you could have cut the air with a blade.
Nathan continued to make pointed comments, veiled under casual observations. Elias continued to let them slide. He wouldn’t give the king what he wanted. Nathan was wasting his time.
The queen made a valiant effort to keep the conversation focused upon lighter topics: the upcoming fire festival that marked the official start to summer; the meal before them, especially the delicious berry tart that finished it; and the history of the palace, which had many a tale attached to it.
Ninia said little, preferring instead to let the conversation eddy around her while she observed. The girl’s sharp gaze missed little.
By the time they were sipping small goblets of fortified wine, Elias was exhausted. He felt as if he’d just spent an hour in the training yard. The verbal sparring had drained him.
