Page 15 of Shadow Mark

It was refreshing. No one trusted Baris, for good reason, and he trusted no one. Navigating the political skies of Arcos was difficult under the best of circumstances. Betrayal was viewed more as a sport than a necessary tool, and his family excelled at it. No one with any sense would ever trust a member of House Shadowmark. Yet this human, with no common language between them, trusted him to carry her to safety. That had been oddly attractive.

Obviously, he could not share this sentimental reflection with anyone.

“I cannot say. Human beauty standards are not our own,” he said.

Raelle made an annoyed noise. “But by Arcosian standards? The princess is quite colorful and eye-catching.”

Baris recognized that tone. “Tolerable, I suppose. What are you scheming?”

“Me? Your Majesty, never.”

“False modesty does not become you.”

“Humans have a certain appeal at the moment,” Raelle said.

“You mean they are fashionable.”

“Exactly. All anyone wants to talk about is the humans. Their story is on all the media outlets. First the princess, and now her efforts to rescue her fellow humans has the kingdom enthralled. It has unified the people like nothing else.”

Raelle made an interesting point. Asking the noble houses to put aside their vendettas for peace had failed. Distracting the general populace with humans as entertainment seemed callous, but it had potential. The humans’ story transcended Arcosian politics. It was more than the core of the kingdom versus the outer districts or noble houses fighting for the crown.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked.

“As you rightly state, you are in mourning and cannot be matched to a mate. However, there are plenty of noble houses that would happily welcome a human mate if they believed it would curry favor with the crown. A generous dowry could buy a lot of goodwill.”

And make for a good story in the media. Baris understood what Raelle left unspoken, and it unsettled him. “The notion of treating the rescued humans as pawns in a game leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Lenore is not a commodity to be sold,” he said.

“Lenore?” Distance and a slight time delay did not obscure the titillation in her voice. “Is this Lenore the tolerably attractive female?”

“Some may find a foul-mouthed, mud-encrusted, unwashed, and stinking female to be attractive, but she is not enough to tempt me,” he said, his tone warning Raelle to drop the matter.

As he spoke, the door to his cabin opened. The human in question—Lenore—stood in the doorway, her hair wet and her skin scrubbed clean to a peachy beige. She wore a robe and clutched a towel to her chest. The wet hair plastered against her skull highlighted her round ears. It was indecent how exposed her ears were. More disturbingly, and perhaps the thing he should have noticed immediately, was the silver translator hooked over the shell of her ear.

They stared at each other for a long moment. How much did she hear?

“I’m sorry. Wrong room. I’m trying to find my cabin,” she said quickly, her cheeks burning red.

“This is obviously not your cabin. I’m in the middle of a conversation,” he said, gesturing to the communication unit on the table.

“My apologies, but I can’t read the numbers on the door,” she replied, embarrassment turning to annoyance. Then, she added, “Be thankful I’m not getting mud everywhere.”

She heard every word.

Baris said nothing as she left, the robe flouncing open to offer a brief glimpse of her thigh.

“Was that the female? Lenore?” Raelle said, her voice thin and filled with static.

Baris turned his attention to the councilor. “Let me make this perfectly clear, Councilor Raelle of the House of Frostwing. The humans, Lenore included, are my guests. They are to be treated as such, with all the rights and benefits that entails. They are not bargaining chips to be traded for political gain. Nor are they pets here for our entertainment. To disrespect one of my guests is to disrespect me. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Baris ended the call before settling onto the sofa, stretching his arm across the back. The emptiness of the cabin surrounded him. The ship’s engine provided a gentle hum as background noise, but otherwise, there was silence. He had nothing to distract himself from how badly that conversation had gone. This would be when his karu would hop onto his shoulder and pull him away from his pensive thoughts.

He was alone.

He handled the situation poorly. His gut told him he should apologize, but she came uninvited into his cabin, overheard a private conversation, and took offense at his frank assessment. He had nothing to apologize for. Besides, the king did not apologize.

LENORE

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