Page 87 of Tarnished Crown
“It’s freezing out there,” Mila said, wrapping both of her hands around her mug and leaning in closer to me.
“Does it not get this cold in Lynx?” I asked, taking another glance at her clothes.
Though she was technically dressed for the cold, the thinner material of both her cloak and her gown didn’t seem to be doing a great job of actually keeping her warm.
“No,” she said bitterly, as if this was something she had been dwelling on for a while. “Not like this.”
Evander, Taras, and a man I assumed was Mila’s brother, judging by their nearly identical features, brushed past us, heading into the living room, while the rest of the men declared they were going on a hunt.
“Lemmikki, fetch me a medovukha,” Evander called, interrupting my conversation with Mila.
One of her perfectly sculpted brows rose and she blinked slowly, looking from me to Evander.
While he occasionally sent me on errands, it was usually because he was working and not actually in the capacity of hispet. I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering what he was playing at, or if he was planning on acting like the same royal arseling he had at the negotiations.
Whatever it was, I supposed I could play along, for now.
“Right away, most esteemed Lord Evander.” I felt Mila’s eyes on me as I filled up three mugs, a smirk dancing at the edge of my mouth. Slowly, I walked one over, handing it to Lord Luca.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” He nodded his head, showing the same easy grace his father always did.
There was curiosity in his gaze as well, and a keen intelligence. It would be a mistake to underestimate him.
“Of course,” I said amicably.
I walked back to the kitchen, slowly bringing Taras his mug next. The barest hint of an amused smile crossed his lips, but he thanked me as well, taking it from my hand.
Finally, I crept on meandering footsteps with Evander’s mug and set it down on the table next to him.
“Is there anything else you need from me, or might I go visit with my friend, by your leave, oh gracious and magnanimous owner?” I widened my eyes in an exaggerated plea.
Something dark flashed in his eyes, and he pursed his lips. To anyone else, he might have looked irritated, but I knew he was biting back one of his low chuckles. “I suppose I will allow it.”
“You are too kind,” I said drily, heading back to Mila.
She eyed me with a little too much insight. Before she could question me, though, I turned it around on her.
“How are you feeling,” I whispered, lifting my cup to my lips and taking a long sip. “You know, about your future being determined by a room full of men?” I nodded toward the living room
She laughed. “What would you know about that?”
“Not much, but hey, maybe the lord of another territory will come and claim a blood debt, just to spice things up,” I said, waggling my eyebrows at her.
“I believe there is a limit as to how many times that can happen in a year, so...”
It was my turn to laugh.
She slid her gaze to unabashedly examine Taras while the men discussed terms and dowries, and Taras’ future position within the clan itself.
“To answer your question, though, I can’t say that I’m entirely surprised. When Father came home after your--” She looked at me pointedly. “After your negotiations with Elk, he seemed worried. He’s been talking about the different clans and allies and choosing sides, how not everyone wants the Obsidian Throne resurrected.”
She shook her head and took a long drink of her medovukha.
“None of that is important right now, though, I suppose.” Her eyes flitted back to Taras, who was sitting exceptionally rigidly in his chair.
I sighed. “He’s...not always like this.”
Which was mostly true.