My grip on the pitcher’s handle tightens at the audacity of his words.

He was never this crude.

Never this mean.

He was… sweet and caring.

Honorable.

He’d never dare speak to me so… so… vulgarly.

After his cup is full, I rest the pitcher back at the center of the table. I don’t wait for him to pick it up, preferring to walk back to the safety of my seat.

“I think maybe that glass should be your last, as the first has already gone to your head.”

The cruel chuckle he lets out has my cold heart in a vise grip, tightening it to the point of pain.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. As my lady wife, you will have to serve me and only me.”

“As your queen, I already do serve you.”

“Really?” He lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “How so?”

“I serve you by being the reason why you hold your lands and get to call yourself king of the east. I serve you by letting you live and forgive your treachery by offering you the possibility of marriage. I serve you by allowing air to fill your lungs. But make no mistake, that you are not the only one I serve. I’m also a devoted servant to the kings of the south and west.”

Levi’s beautiful facial features turn harder at the mention of the other two kings.

“Your loyalty to your vassals has no bounds, it seems,” he states coldly.

“As is my duty. Otherwise, what kind of queen would I be?”

Levi doesn’t offer a reply to my provocation, preferring to drink his alcohol instead. When he suddenly gets up from his seat, I half expect him to fill his glass for a third time, but am pleasantly surprised when he fills his plate with the pheasant carrot stew my cook prepared instead.

“Apologies, Your Highness, but I’m afraid if you invited me to dine with you this evening, expecting to be entertained with mindless conversation, then you will be disappointed. I’m not much for idle chitchat,” he explains, vigorously slicing his meat with his knife and fork as if it offended him in some way.

“You never were,” I mutter under my breath, but thankfully Levi doesn’t pick up on it. “I don’t mind dining in silence,” I retort a little louder. “I quite prefer it.”

“Fine by me,” he grumbles, shoving his fork in his mouth.

I, too, go through the motions of filling my plate, although my appetite has waned somewhat.

This was not how I expected this dinner to go. I need confirmation that Levi received a letter from the west and if said letter had been written by Atlas himself. How am I to do that when it’s obvious Levi won’t say another word to me for the whole duration of the meal?

Why does he have to be so obtuse and hardheaded?

Gods give me patience.

Although he tried his best to hide it, I have no doubt he’s fond of you.

And fondness has a way of corrupting a soul when it’s not nourished.

You can use that to your advantage.

Those had been Inessa’s exact words to me when trying to convince me that I could get the intel I needed all by myself. At the time, I let myself believe that maybe there was some merit to her observation, but now… I’m not so sure.

Where Inessa saw fondness in Levi’s eyes, I only see hate.

He hates me.