Page 63 of Obsidian Throne

But my dagger wasn’t there.

“The bed?” I asked.

He looked at it dubiously. It would have been difficult to knock the dagger all the way from the dresser back there, but not impossible.

Still, his features were wary as he pulled it out from the wall. Sure enough, the dagger wasn’t there, either.

We exchanged a glance.

“If someone wanted to steal it--” he began.

“There are plenty of valuable things in this room,” I finished. “Stars, in this castle.”

“So, they wanted your dagger specifically.” His face was pure murder.

“So I would be unarmed?” I guessed, a tendril of fear shooting through me in spite of myself.

“Perhaps,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll make sure you have a replacement by tomorrow. In the meantime, you don’t leave my side.”

I might have argued with his commanding tone if I didn’t agree with him.

And if there wasn’t just the slightest edge of panic in his eyes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

ROWAN

For someone who claimed to want to distribute food, Iiro was doing a damned good job of wasting it tonight.

Once again, there was easily enough here for thirty people, rather than the twelve who were in attendance. Evander’s jaw clenched, though I wasn’t sure if it was about that or if he was still upset about my dagger.

Both, likely.

Besides which, Aleksander had made it to dinner, but today was clearly not one of his lucid days. He had a faraway expression on his face, and Evander didn’t have to tell me how bad it would be if everyone here understood the extent of the duke’s illness.

The new king was pressing plenty of advantages, as it was. If Bear was seen as vulnerable to attack from all sides…

I shook the thought away, settling into the seat next to Evander. He and Ava sat on either side of the duke, effectively boxing him away from people.

We would just have to hope it was enough.

It was an effort not to laugh, or gag, at the first course. Despite the food-laden table, servants came by to ladle soup into each of our porcelain bowls, as if the roasted pig and chafing dishes filled with mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, and more weren’t enough.

No, he had to give us more.

And it had to be borscht.

I glanced up from the bowl of cold soup and caught Theo’s eye. He raised his hands slightly in a gesture that said he was innocent, and I chuckled. Of course, Iiro wanted to make me squirm, knowing I risked offending the others at the table by not finishing the soup he knew I hated.

But the joke was on him, because after the jellied meat, this borscht would be downright delicious. Or, at the very least, not quite as bad.

Bracing myself, I kept my features neutral and went for it.

I was wrong. It was still horrid. Each bite was a little worse than the last, and my eyes watered from what I could swear was an extra helping of vinegar.

Evander smirked beside me, entirely unbothered by it.

“At least it isn’t fish stew,” he whispered, making me laugh.