Page 58 of Obsidian Throne

Rows of servants lined up, awaiting our arrival. As soon as our carriage came to a stop, they rushed to take our things to our assigned rooms without so much as a word of greeting.

The only person who did speak was the head servant who ushered us inside, directing any of the few words he addressed first to the duke, whose eyes were too distant, confusion coating his expression.

Evander spoke up to cover for his father, his face a mask of calm indifference. If the servant noticed anything amiss, he didn’t comment on it.

Instead, he focused his attention on him from that point forward. And in spite of the way my arm was linked in Evander’s, the servant was impressively skilled in the art of ignoring me.

He directed us toward the imperial doors to the palace, and we waited for Ava and Aleksander to enter first before following them.

My mouth nearly fell open at the sight that greeted us in the foyer.

As imposing and grand as the palace had been on the outside, the inside was even more so. Kirill let out a low whistle just behind us, while Henrick’s and Pavel’s jaws nearly hit the floor.

Luxury dripped from every corner, from the gold tasseled curtains to the jeweled eggs that sat in display cases, and the giant marble statues that stood like sentries all around the room.

Ornate tapestries hung over the expansive walls, interspersed with the castle banners, a silver horse on a deep purple background.

We followed a trail of lush fur rugs into the Great Hall, lit by crystal chandeliers that probably cost more than the entirety of Castle Chridhe. A massive oak table sat in the center of the room, laden with more food and drinks than the amount of people here accounted for.

You would never have guessed Socair was dealing with food shortages, given the way Iiro had set so much of it on display.

Kirill and the others weren’t allowed into the room, and instead were directed down a different hall.

“They will dine with the other soldiers in the barracks,” the man said, gesturing dismissively at the men.

“Are they expecting all of the clans?” I asked Evander in a hushed tone as we were led to our spot at the table.

Evander tensed beside me, his eyes roving over the excess of food as well before he shrugged.

“Knowing Iiro, probably not,” he whispered before we took our seats. “Though, he’s nearly halfway there with the four of us.”

Theo dipped his head in greeting from across the table. Next to him were the Duke and Duchess of Viper. Galina sat across from him with her head low while her uncle, Sir Mikhail of Ram, spoke to her in low tones.

My heart sank a little, wondering whether they were once again trying to throw her at Theo, and how miserable it must be for her.

“Duke and Duchess,” Inessa’s father greeted, pulling my attention back to them. “Lord and Lady Stenvall,” he added, looking at us.

A small shiver raked through me. Though his words were clipped and suspicion lined his features, I wasn’t sure I would ever grow tired of being called by Evander’s name.

“Sir Andreyev, Lady Andreyev,” I returned with a smile. “When did you arrive?” I asked.

Before he could answer, though, the large doors on the other side of the room groaned open.

Iiro stepped through them dressed in long ornate robes much like the one that he had worn when I first met him, only these were the same deep shade of purple as the banners.

To top it off, he wore the massive crown that he had on at our wedding.

Inessa followed at his heels, wearing her ornate crown as well, though she appeared to be uncomfortable with the weight of it.

“Welcome, Clan Bear,” Iiro greeted us, a wide grin pasted to his mouth as he ostensibly took in the room.

It was an effort not to snort at his choice in words, as if he hadn’t threatened us to attend. Aleksander looked up from the table, his eyes still far away as he lived through a different moment in his history.

But as soon as they settled on Iiro, or more likely, his crown, his features stilled, and he dipped his head in respect.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted with far more respect in his tone than I would ever have expected from a man like Evander’s father.

The corner of Iiro’s mouth tugged into a knowing smile.