Settle

"Please, continue your meal. I apologize for my daughter's rude behavior and hope it has not spoiled your appetite," Altois said, noticing the silence, and he was not the man Derya had thought he would be, measured by Safiya's behavior. "I hope you can forgive me, Prince Andor, for ruining your evening."

"I applaud you for defending my sister's honor and mine. Only a rare man would. To our continued friendship," Andor said, raising his goblet, and the king obliged.

"To our continued friendship."

The meal continued, and the atmosphere gradually returned to its former cordial state, although Bailey barely touched her food, staring at her plate and listening to the remarks of those who did not understand the acuteness of elven hearing.

"I am sorry my daughter caused this," Altois said to Derya, glancing at the guests. "It is commendable that it bothers you, and if we can hear them, so can she."

Derya had to bite her tongue.

A human would not find him calling her empathy commendable, an insult.

"Safiya's behavior stems from that of her mother. Marrying me was not Larisandra's choice. The arrogant girl tried to haul in a bigger fish, but he quickly realized what a harpy she is, and I got stuck with her. As much as I tried to keep her from spreading her poison to Safiya, like yeast in dough, it could not be stopped from spreading, rising, and by now, it's baked so deep into her that only an act of the Creator can change her."

"As much as I wanted this union with Andor's princedom, you are a kinder choice. Unfortunately, I have only one heir, and I pity the man she marries." He smirked. "Too honest for you?" he asked when she just stared at him.

"Honesty is commendable, sire."

"Perhaps it is a good thing the fae disappeared. Humans are far too small-minded to get along with each other. They want to hate something to dislike their lives less. Whether it is the color or tone of someone's skin, their kin, clan, creed, beliefs, politics, or species, it does not matter. Even brother and brother don't get along."

This was not the conversation she thought to have with this man when she entered the room.

"Do you have any idea what I would give to have a son like Andor? Others think he's weak because he's kind to his people, but they will trifle with him at their peril."

Only the slight tightening of Andor's hand betrayed that he heard that comment even as he gently coached Bailey from her shyness.

"With that, sire, I agree. But it is a good thing when your enemies underestimate you."

Altois glanced at her, and the way he measured her with his gaze told her that he was re-evaluating her as a person and discovering that she was more than a pretty face.

"Be good to him."

She had been so ready to be this man's enemy, and he could still be that, but she doubted it.

"That I promise you, sire."

Marriage was not a thing to be taken lightly. From childhood, her father prepared her mentally for the fact that she would not marry her mate; she would wed whoever served their kingdom best. It was her duty. But he would have chosen someone she would not hate or be repulsed by. This was not what he intended, but it was what it was.

If she went home, she would not be a princess. After she had served her sentence, she'd end up as part of some prince or king's harem in one of those kingdoms where a king or a rich man could have as many wives as he wanted, and her father would have no choice in the matter. The Council of Kings would insist on it.

"You will make beautiful babies," he said, digging into the seared piece of meat a server set in front of him, but she grew still.

Would her children also be bound by Bailey's magic? Would they be human? Halflings? Had Argana considered that when she hatched this plan?

Probably not, but the fat was in the fire.

"Yes," Andor said, turning his attention to her and Altois. "We will have gorgeous babies with their mama's dimples and those eyes."

Something in the way he said it told her he thought about it, and he didn't mind what they had or what it meant. Being this close to him with his hand always finding its way back to hers was a little distracting. One thing was certain, they would have no problem making babies, and although she was far from ready to be a mother, she couldn't help picturing herself carrying his child.

"As long as I get to be a godfather," Altois said, and Andor laughed, drawing attention to them.

"I would not dream of insulting you by not asking, your majesty," he said. "But until you marry off Safiya, my child would not be visiting."

She expected this to spark tension, but the king smiled ruefully.

"Heavens, no, she might have it kidnapped or murdered," he was only half kidding and slightly concerned.

Why did he say it and not he or she? Or was it just easier? Paranoid much? But she had to be. She was one wrong word from being burned alive.

"You chose a delightful mate, Andor," Altois said, raising his goblet, and again her hackles rose at the word mate, but Andor seemed unconcerned as he lifted his too.

"And here I was afraid the two of you would not get along."

"If she did not already have a father and weren't a grown woman with a mind of her own, I would adopt her."

"Careful, sire. I do not want to be assassinated before my wedding."

"Safiya would do it on the day of your wedding to make a point... if she had the guts. Time has taught me that I did have some influence over her, not much, but enough that she would not physically harm someone out of sheer spite. Larissandra did not have such restraint. She had my former fiancé killed by 'robbers,' and I could never prove it."

Derya didn't know what to say when she saw the sadness in his eyes and realized that he loved the woman his wife had killed.

"I am sorry for your loss," she said, and the way he glanced at her, no one had ever said that to him.

"You'd make a fine princess for this kingdom, lass."

"My thought exactly, sire," Andor said, and when she turned her head, he stared at her as if she had hung the moon.

"Those smoldering gazes are overheating my spice pudding," Altois teased, but although his lips smiled, his gaze remained worried for his daughter and sad for the woman he never got to love.