The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(56)
“How clever.” Aya went to remove her hand again, but King Archon still wouldn’t budge. She felt his other hand brush her hair. He touched the barrette. Aya closed her eyes and imagined that it was Willem fastening the barrette into place.
“These jewels are beautiful. I feel like I’ve seen them before.”
Aya shrugged. “Perhaps you have. A friend gave them to me to wear today.”
“What a generous friend.” King Archon said the words slowly, and Aya guessed he was fishing to see if she had a male suitor.
Aya smirked. “A friend who understood how important it was for me to look my best today.”
King Archon smiled down at Aya, gently removing his hand from hers. Aya kept hold of the lever for a second longer, half clinging to the ship’s history and half needing it to keep herself upright. The king’s presence was overbearing, suffocating. Had she been a real mistress, she would have loved the attention.
“Shall we move on, Miss Aya? I want you to see the shops as they open, before the area is too crowded with gossipy noblewomen.” King Archon took her arm and wove it through his. He led her back up the staircase. Eldric waited at the top. It took all of her strength not to jerk her arm away.
For Papa. For Papa. For Papa.
“Are you worried we may become a topic of gossip, Your Majesty?”
King Archon motioned for Eldric to close the doors behind them. The valet complied, and Aya watched them shut with a heavy feeling in her chest. She felt compelled to stare at the closed doors, but King Archon turned her away and guided her toward the shops.
“Trust me, Miss Aya. After our dance at the masquerade ball, I am sure we are already a topic of intense conversation.”
This time, Aya did not need to act. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped slightly. She wondered if palace gossip could truly spread so quickly. The ball had only been last night. But then again, every single noble had been in attendance, and many had brazenly watched her dances with the king and with Willem.
Aya wondered if palace gossip would be her ally or her foe. Gossip about her and the king could add legitimacy to her case when she exposed the king’s plot to get rid of Queen Zedara. After all, if the nobles believed that King Archon had already primed Aya to be his next wife, they were more likely to believe that he wanted to relieve himself of his current one. However, gossip like this could also make the nobles dislike or distrust her, and it could put her at risk for being accused of adultery—even when the plan she had hatched with Lord Varick and Queen Zedara left her innocent.
“Should we be worried?” Aya’s voice cracked.
King Archon laughed, patting Aya’s arm as if she were a mother fretting over her child’s bonnet. “Miss Aya, perhaps you forget, but I am the king. My word outweighs the gossip of every person in Desertera.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Which is why I have to ensure that others hear and see your treachery firsthand.
Aya spoke with an authority that closed the subject. She saw a smirk cross King Archon’s face, and she assumed that her ready acknowledgement of his power pleased him. They walked in silence for the majority of the distance between the stern and the center of the ship, the only sounds those of their shoes hitting the marble floors and Eldric humming behind them.
Aya was thankful for the king’s quietness and the rhythmic sounds of their little party. They gave her time to think and to calm herself. So far, the tour had been a success. The king showed his interest by his careful planning, and he had already made great efforts to start conversation and create physical contact. Surely, after a few more hours of the same, and after the spurning he should have received from Queen Zedara last night, he would be putty in her hands by the end of their day together.
“We’re almost there,” King Archon announced, pulling Aya out of her thoughts.
The king continued talking, explaining the various kinds of shops in the palace and which noble families shopped at which ones. This spawned a detailed explanation of the history of the various noble lines and how they were all disgustingly inbred from centuries of confining themselves to the limited supply of other nobles.
“Breeding must have been so much easier when one had other nations of people to choose from,” King Archon mused. “Of course, the noble families are reaching the point now where we admit that it may be necessary to introduce some fresh blood into our lines.”
“Oh?”
Aya wasn’t really listening. The common people knew of the lineage and happenings of the royal family, but they didn’t really care about the other nobles at all—excepting, of course, their patrons. Aya remembered discussions between her father and other merchants, where they would laugh at the nobles for their lack of a trade, their utter uselessness, as her father would say.
“Mark my words,” Papa used to tell her. “When the rains come again, the merchants and tradesfolk will be the saviors. These nobles, they can’t do anything for themselves. They’ll be the ones begging us to help them, then the tide will really turn for everyone.”
King Archon stopped walking and turned Aya to look at him. “That’s why introducing wards like you into our society is so important. You may be from bad blood, but you have still managed to be beautiful and have finer qualities than most of the common poor. One or two women like you would make sturdy breeders without tainting the bloodlines too much.”