Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(50)

I only see him when he is up on the throne platform.

“Excuse me, m’King, could I have a word?” Ice asks.

“You may,” Jovan accedes. I lean in with interest.

Ice comes in close. Right up to Jovan, but on my side, so I can hear. Jovan tenses, not liking Ice so close. He’s certainly pushing the boundaries of appropriate behavior, but I imagine my friend has his reasons.

“Third table back, closest row, second from right,” he says. Ice followed my two tags back to see who they reported to. He’d said the person looked like assembly or Inner Rings. The person is in this room.

“Jovan, who is it?” I ask. Damned veil. I resist prompting him again in the short pause.

“Sole,” he says curiously. My jaw drops open and I sit back in my chair, unable to help the reaction.

Sole.

I lean back in, giving instructions in a low voice. “New target while you’re in the castle,” I order. Ice jerks his head in acquiescence.

“He’s not the type to run it,” I say. “Find who he’s answering to.” I already know who the source is. But who will believe a Solati? Even Jovan won’t believe me and he kisses me on occasion. Ice bows to the king and moves back.

Several minutes pass until the disturbance has been forgotten and the hum of the food hall has resumed.

“We need to talk,” Jovan says in my ear.

Finally, he’s listening.

“I agree. And you’re too close.” I look nervously at Roscoe over his shoulder. Roscoe looks tired. I assume, as the king’s right-hand man, he’s been working day and night for some time now.

“I’m not close enough,” he disagrees in a heated voice. I shudder as yearning ripples through me once again.

“Meet me at the baths tonight,” he says. “Late.”

I open and shut my mouth twice before saying slowly. “An odd place for a meeting.”

He gives me a slow smile. The kind I’m embarrassed other people might see. “Well, if you’re scared…” he says. Warmth unfurls in my stomach. I know what the baths mean: no clothes. That would go directly against what I’ve decided to do.

“Clothes stay on.” I state my terms, cheeks burning under my veil.

Jovan booms with laughter, slapping a hand on the table, making the plates around us jump and clatter.

“Hush!” I scold. There must be many curious eyes on us because he waits another few minutes to return with his next proposal.

“How about, your clothes can stay on … if you wish them to?” His voice is so quiet I have to lean closer to hear. There’s no way he misses my sharp intake. The laughter dies as he waits for my answer.

There’s no danger of my clothes coming off.

I dip my head slowly, agreeing to his terms and push back from the table, whistling to Kaura. For some reason I’m no longer hungry.

I have no idea where the barracks are staying, so I head to my room with Kaura in tow, aiming to get in some training. My stomach flutters nervously. I think a lot of training is in order. I dodge up the stairs to my chamber.

“You full, girl?” I ask her. She waves her tail manically in response. I was happy to discover our relationship hadn’t suffered. She still obeyed my every command; Rhone's too, now. And she kept growing. She was well above my knee now. Rhone said she wouldn’t be fully grown for another couple of revolutions.

A hand grabs my elbow. I react, like I did with Kedrick. I pull the culprit toward me, taking his center away. I roll the man over my hip, using his momentum, and throw him into the wall to my right. My guards clatter over to me, Ashawn one of them, Wrath on his other side.

“That was awesome,” Ashawn says. “I didn’t know you could fight.” I shrug in return, not wanting to lie to him, but uneasy about agreeing while there are three other guards here.

A groan pulls my attention to my attacker. The red hair makes my stomach drop. No wonder Kaura didn’t react! She sits licking my attacker’s face instead.

“Shit!” Sanjay rolls onto his back, pushing her away.

I drop to my knees by his side. “Dammit, Sanjay, what were you thinking.”

His eyes aren’t completely focusing. A laughing Ashawn moves forward to help the other man up. I point to my room and Jovan’s brother dumps him on a chair by the fire. Kaura moves up to the bed and settles in the furs there, bored with the drama around her.

“Probably should’ve said something first,” Sanjay whispers.

“That would’ve been a good idea. Did you need me for something?” I ask. Sanjay glances up at Ashawn, who returns the look with a glare and doesn’t budge. Despite his joking, he’s begun to take Jovan’s orders quite seriously.

“Prince Ashawn, a moment please,” I request.

He leaves the room in a jangle of armor after threatening Sanjay a few times. I really should ask Jovan to let his brother out of the cumbersome battlewear. Many people thought it was just punishment. But I suspected the confinement doubled as protection for Ashawn as well. The archer hadn’t been found and Ashawn was his last target. Whatever the youngest brother’s mistakes—and they had been many—he seemed to have recovered his good character. More attention from Jovan had done wonders for the youngest prince.

Sanjay's face loses color as he looks at me. I remember his odd behavior earlier and dismiss my worry; it’s a reaction from hitting his head against a stone wall. He clears his throat as I take a seat opposite him, removing my veil and placing it on my lap. It gives me a thrill to do so.