Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(66)

He stands also with a searching glance my way. “They do seem to be a bit small,” he says woodenly. I sit and watch the assembly as he peels off the ruined tunic. I try not to laugh at the whistles and giggles I hear erupting with his display.

Olandon sits down, tossing the tunic behind him. I press a hand to my mouth under my veil as he sits tall, trying to appear as big as possible.

“That worked damn well,” Drummond congratulates. “Wish I’d tried that when my pants split at the ball last sector.”

There’s laughter down the table at his comment. I hear Jovan’s deep chuckle.

“The problem there, Drum, is you need something impressive underneath,” Jovan says loudly. The plates rattle and bounce and the men around me slap their hands on the table and roar. I peek at my brother and see he’s struggling to restrain his own humor. I elbow him and his laughter bursts out, adding to the noise of the others.

*

The king speaks quietly to the council. He doesn’t need to raise his voice. Everyone pays the utmost attention. There’s been a subtle shift in the advisors’ attitudes since the Outer Rings showed up outside the castle gates. They’ve seen Jovan in action. I rest my head back and listen to the changes Blizzard has proposed. Short-term plans to distribute food and clothing, and long-term plans to decrease crime rates and improve housing conditions. Blizzard won’t be worth talking to for months—poor Ice.

The advisors leap on board with the drafted plans, raising points they believe may become issues. A discussion opens which Jovan directs with ease. I wonder if they’ve been comparing Jovan to his father this whole time. This might be the first time they’re seeing him as a complete king in his own right, and listening to what their king says out of respect for Jovan himself, rather than respect for his position. After all, he’s only just approaching his twenty-fifth birthday. I often forget his age; he’s so competent most of the time.

“I think we should bring Frost back in,” Blaine says, interrupting Roscoe.

“Your reasons?” Roscoe asks stiffly. I don’t blame him. He’s second in command here, and Blaine’s interruption was disrespectful.

“I think she would be a useful asset for deciding how to decrease crime rates,” he says.

I narrow my eyes, trying to guess his real reason.

“Blizzard should suffice, being a pit fighter as well,” Drummond says. He looks at Jovan, who gives nothing away.

“Yes, but my sources tell me Frost has connections in the prostitution circles. Perhaps she is one. And her knowledge there could serve as doubly useful.” He presses the point, not wanting to back down.

I feel my hands curling into fists under the table. Blaine wants to know who I’ve been talking to. He wants to weed out the weak links in his underground crime system. Or maybe his spies are pulling up blanks on Frost’s whereabouts. This could be a ploy to flush me out so he can try to tag me again. He obviously knows Frost is on to something after her involvement with the angry mob outside the castle. Or maybe he sees her as an opposing force.

“A proposition I’ll keep in mind, but I don’t think it’s necessary for now,” Jovan says. He can hardly do otherwise.

“Of course, my King,” Blaine purrs.

*

The rest of the day continues in the same fashion. Fiona runs out of dinner crying, leaving a glum Sanjay staring at his plate. I wonder if she’s confronted the delegate about his unusual behavior. I hope she forgives me for not telling her straightaway once everything is revealed.

Alzona and the others should be back tomorrow night. I hope the news from Willow is in Sanjay’s favor.

For all my witnesses against Blaine and the stack of intelligence gathered by Ice, I’m not sure it will be enough without the documents from Rhone. I’m becoming increasingly nervous about calling the advisor out. I need those papers from the Third Sector castle, but I feel like Blaine is breathing down my neck. And now he might know my secret. He hasn’t gotten this far by being stupid. Even if he doesn’t know about my alter ego, he’s bound to notice the behavior of Macy, Sanjay or Sole. And if he catches a single glimpse of Alzona in the castle, he’ll know something is happening. And what if one of Ice’s spies reports to Hale for more money?

No, I have to strike as soon as Alzona and the others return from the whorehouse, regardless of whether Rhone is back.

*

I lay in bed, wrapped and curled beneath stacks of warm fur. At least if I have to go through days like today, there’s comfort knowing a bed is at the end of it.

I smile into the pillow at nothing in particular, pushing at the warm, heavy mass of Kaura, who encroaches on my space.

The door creaks open and I still, breath held.

“Just me,” whispers Jovan. I smile at the irony of the words. Saying something is “just Jovan” will always be a ridiculous understatement. I shift to look up at him and remember my lack of clothing. Heart racing, I turn on my side away from him, drawing the furs up to my chin.

“Hello.” I wince at the strained sound of my voice. It was hard enough to control myself around Jovan when we were both dressed.

The bed dips behind me and I listen, tense as Jovan’s boots thud against the ground, followed by the sound of fabric moving over skin. He lays down and shuffles around until he’s a solid presence at my back. One of his arms rests on top of the furs wrapped around me, only a thin layer away from resting on my naked skin. Veni! He throws one of his legs over the blanket on my thighs.