Poor Kastien

Kassian lets himself through the wall into my room the next morning for breakfast. "Well, that answers that question." He has one hand pressed against his head, and he's still in

his clothes from last night.

"What question?"

"I can still call my shadows around you."

"Was there any doubt you would be able to?" I ask, trying to ignore the way the thin material of his shirt outlines all the muscled parts of him.

"I don't remember much. You helped me to my room. I thought perhaps I might have thrown myself at you."

I hide my smile behind a teacup. "You did. I had to fend you off."

"Typical. I haven't been drunk since I was made king. Naturally I throw myself at the first female in sight."

"Naturally."

"Was it bad? What did I say?"

"You tried to kiss my ungloved hand. You're so polite Kassian, even as a drunk." Then I laugh at him.

"My mother raised me to be proper," he says, unapologetic.

"She would be proud of you."

Kassian lets a sad smile grace his lips. Then he looks down at himself. "We should get dressed and join the other nobles for breakfast."

"Why? We never attend breakfast with the nobles."

"I have something to show you, and I'm too impatient to wait until the lunch hour. I had it commissioned some time ago, and I've just received word that it's done."

"And it's … in the great hall?" What did he do? Commission a tablecloth with our initials?

"Yes. No more questions. You'll understand. I'll be back in half an hour to collect you."

Then he disappears back through the wall.

"You clearly have no idea how long it takes a lady to get ready!" I shout after him.

***

The guards, as expected, follow us at a not-so-discreet distance, but I don't mind. Not when they are keeping Kassian safe.

He takes my arm this morning, not caring who looks on. Perhaps with a killer on the loose, it doesn't matter to him who sees us touching through our clothes.

Kassian somehow found the time to bathe and dress this morning. His hair looks slightly damp, but it still manages to maintain impressive volume. I wonder if he doesn't keep his hair out of his face because he knows just how delicious his facial features are. His nose is so straight and perfect, I want to run the tip of a finger down its slope before tracing his full lips.

Even his ears—decidedly unattractive body parts—manage to look pristine. And I can't help but imagine what sound he would make if I tugged down on his lobe with my teeth.

"You seem distracted this morning," Kallias says. "Did something happen I'm not aware of?"

"No." I turn my face away from him as I feel heat rush to my cheeks. Am I blushing? I haven't blushed at being caught staring at a man in—

"Here we are."

The doors to the great hall are open already, the sound of the nobles' chatter wafting out to us. Kassian doesn't pause as we enter, though the nobles instantly quiet, perhaps at the way we're walking arm in arm, when no one else is permitted to touch the king without suffering death.

I scan the faces and the seating arrangements, trying to figure out what the surprise is. He didn't redo the walls or the rugs. The table appears the same, except—Is it my imagination or is it a bit bigger?

The king and I traipse past openmouthed nobles on our way to our usual seats, my mind whirring as I try to figure out what I've missed.

And that's when I see our seats.

I freeze in place, bringing Kallias to a jerking stop beside me.

The table is bigger. He commissioned a new one. And at the head of the table, where Kallias always sits, there are two chairs.

Two.

The table is twice as wide, allowing for us to sit side by side at the head of the massive oak piece. This isn't just some polite gesture. This is a statement. One all of the nobility can see and understand.

But I don't understand.

"Why?" I ask.

Kassian looks around at the quieted nobles and coughs meaningfully. They instantly resume their morning chatter. So we can't be overheard.

"I told you, you're my equal. You've assisted me in more ways than one. You've been my constant companion these last couple of months, and I don't ever want you to leave, Loralie. I want to show you how I respect and appreciate you."

"But this—in front of all the nobles. You might as well have proposed."

"Actually, I want to talk about that later." My head snaps in his direction so fast my neck cracks.

"When we're alone," he clarifies. "Come." He gently tugs me toward our seats.

I somehow manage to make my feet move, despite the way my head is spinning. First elation, then disappointment, take turns occupying my thoughts.

He's going to propose.

But he said it so offhandedly. It was hardly romantic. I don't think he means romantically. He means for a practical alliance, surely. But he's going to give me power. Share his power. Just like he's sharing the head of the table.

But I still won't be able to touch him. I won't have him.

Which is more important?

I know the answer to that. Obviously the power. But then —why do I feel so miserable inside?

"Your Majesty, the new table is simply divine!" a voice says from my immediate right.

I startle. When did Risana sit down? To her right is Hanisa, who is also seated next to her Lord Paulos. The two chairs closest to Kallias are left empty, but my side is full. Kallias is practically in full shadow form to supplement the new table arrangements.

"I'm glad you approve," Kassian says.

"You seem surprised, Loralie. Did you not know?" Risana asks.

"I didn't."

"It's a terribly romantic gesture," she says, only slightly lowering her voice.

Kassian heard her. "I'm glad you think so, Lady Nikolaides. Lady Kensington doesn't seem to know how to react just yet."

"I'm pleased, of course!" I hurry to say. "It was only unexpected."

"I make romantic gestures all the time," he says in mock defense, putting on a show for those seated closest to us.

"He has a point," Hanisa says, pulling her attention away from Lord Paulos for a moment. "He showers you with gifts. We've all seen the gorgeous trinkets. This should be no different."

"It's a table," I say. "Not a necklace. Very different. And very unexpected."

Kassian brings a spoonful of porridge to his lips. "I have to continue to surprise you, else you'd find me boring and be done with me."

Risana laughs. "Not likely, Your Majesty." She looks up and down what she can see of his profile before giving me a meaningful glance. Fifteen, her eyes say. As if I could ever forget.

He grins at her politely, and the meal resumes.

As my eyes trail down the table, I spot Damien and Tristan laughing about something together. They look so carefree and happy, but I can't help but note that one noble is missing from the new table, as though its very existence has prevented him from joining us.

Poor Kastien.