The dining room was as enormous as the sitting room had been. The table, which seated twelve, was far too small for it, though Fiona suspected it was modular and could be expanded as needed. Or perhaps there were more tables hidden behind the wainscoting. Sebastian held a chair for her just as if she were a noble lady—tonight, that’s what she was, and she needed to remember that.
He seated himself beside her and gave her a reassuring smile. She needed it. There were no fewer than five forks, three spoons, and two knives at her place, along with two wine glasses and a snowy white napkin folded in the shape of a fan. She followed Sebastian’s example and draped it across her lap. And this was just a family dinner. Imagine a full state affair with fifteen courses.
Emily sat on her other side and put her own napkin in her lap. She smiled pleasantly at Fiona, but said nothing until servitors had brought out huge tureens of clear soup and filled their bowls. “So, Fiona, tell us about yourself,” she said. “I don’t think I know your family.”
“You probably don’t,” Fiona said, flashing a glance at Sebastian. He’d applied himself to his soup bowl and didn’t give her any hints by expression or word. They hadn’t discussed what she would say to them, whether she should lie to make herself seem more acceptable. The thought irritated Fiona. None of this was real. She wasn’t Sebastian’s wife, wasn’t going to be his wife, and she was who she was.
“My family has lived in Aurilien for generations,” she said, “tradesmen and –women, mostly. My parents passed away years ago, and I went to live with my aunt and uncle after my divorce.”
Veronica made a sputtering sound around a mouthful of soup, but recovered quickly. Landon, his brows rising, said, “Divorce?”
“Yes. My ex-husband and I parted ways about four months ago. It was best for everyone.” Take that, your Highness. She wasn’t going to let him make her feel ashamed of her choices. That was her business.
“But—” Landon cast a quick glance at his mother, seated at the head of the table. She was placidly eating soup and showed no reaction to this revelation. Landon clearly wanted someone to back him on his appalled reaction, but when no one stepped forward, he subsided.
“So how long have you and Sebastian known each other?” Great-Uncle Sebastian asked. He was seated directly opposite Fiona, and his sharp blue eyes bored into her with a steady pressure she wished she could duck away from.
“A few weeks,” Sebastian said. “We’ve only been married a week, but it’s been an exciting one, don’t you agree, love?”
She wanted to kick him under the table, but refrained. “It has,” she agreed.
“She quite swept me off my feet,” Sebastian continued. Fiona sipped her soup and hoped her annoyance wasn’t obvious. Between that and the divorce, she sounded like a gold-digging social climber. Not that it mattered what these people thought.
“Oh, you did all the sweeping, love,” she responded. “You were irresistible.” Too much? No, Emily looked as if this were the most romantic thing she’d ever heard, though Great-Uncle Sebastian still had that look as if he were ferreting out her secrets.
“I’m so happy for both of you,” Emily said. “Seb’s had far too many relationships that went nowhere. It’s past time he settled down.”
“Don’t embarrass me in front of Fiona,” Sebastian said with a smile that said he wasn’t the least embarrassed. “She doesn’t need to be reminded of all my failed relationships.”
“Sounds like she’s had at least one failed relationship of her own,” Landon rumbled.
Fiona’s face went hot with embarrassment. “Excuse me?” Sebastian said, sounding dangerously calm.
Landon looked startled. “I mean, you both have pasts, right? Not that—I apologize, that came out wrong.”
“It’s all right, I understand what you meant,” Fiona said, willing her face to return to its usual shade. Sebastian had his hand curled tightly around a fork and looked ready to use it on his brother. “Sebastian tells me you’re a great hunter. Is this the season for it? I’m afraid I don’t know anything about hunting.”
“Never rode to the hunt? Pity,” Landon said, sounding relieved that she wasn’t going to challenge him on his faux pas. “There’s nothing like it. True, this is the wrong time of year for a real hunt. I much prefer the autumn, the smell of falling leaves, the excitement of running a fox or a stag to ground—”
“I’m sure Fiona isn’t interested,” Queen Genevieve said. It was Landon’s turn to flush. “Fiona, you said your people are tradesmen. Is that what you’ve done all your life?”
“My former husband and I were traders for many years, then importers centered in Kingsport.” Fiona wished she’d allowed Landon to keep talking. She had no desire to carry on a conversation with the Queen, whose sharp blue eyes were as piercing as Great-Uncle Sebastian’s. “It’s how Sebastian and I met, traveling to Veribold together.”
The Queen’s eyes narrowed. “A trip to Veribold? How…romantic.”
She clearly expected Fiona to spill Douglas’s secret. Fiona’s dislike of the woman deepened. “It was,” she said, not elaborating further.
The servitors returned, removing the soup plates and serving some kind of mutton in gravy that disguised its contours. Fiona took a bite. It was both bland and over-salted. So much for how the rich and powerful ate. Her aunt was a better cook than this.
“We intend to leave for Umberan in the morning,” Sebastian said. “A real wedding trip. Veribold is pretty, but it’s full of Veriboldans and not nearly so nice as the seashore.”
“But you only just got here!” Emily protested. “I want a chance to get to know Fiona.”
“There will be plenty of time for that.” Sebastian was taking very small bites, Fiona noticed, and concluded he was as unimpressed with the food as she was. Even the Irantzen Temple had had better cuisine, if less of it. “We should only be gone for four weeks.”
“Then we’ll have a grand reception and dance when you return,” Emily said. “Fiona, you’ll let me plan it, won’t you? I can take care of all the details while you’re gone, and you need only wear a beautiful gown and enjoy yourself.”
Fiona wished she could kick herself under the table. Emily was so innocently pleased at the thought of having her for a sister Fiona felt like an utter heel for deceiving her. She stole a glance at Queen Genevieve. If Sebastian was right, and the Queen had arranged the elimination of the witnesses to Douglas North’s crimes, Fiona’s life was in danger if they didn’t keep up this charade. The necessity burned within her. Under other circumstances, Emily was someone she might have wanted to befriend, princess or no. She remembered Hien and felt even sicker. When had she turned into someone who could lie so readily to honorable women?
“That would be nice, but you really don’t have to go to all that trouble,” she said.
“It’s no trouble. I love planning parties. It’s one of my favorite activities.” Emily put a gentle hand on Fiona’s arm. “I hope we will be friends.”
“I…hope so too.” Fiona scraped away some of the salty gravy and choked down another bite of mutton. She tried not to look at Great-Uncle Sebastian, who wouldn’t stop staring at her. Would she be too rude if she challenged him on it? Of course she would. That would be rude even by the standards of her own class.
The door flew open. “Sorry I’m late,” a man said, strolling in and taking a seat at the end of the table opposite the Queen. He was absurdly handsome, even more so than Landon, with black hair that waved back from his forehead, a dimple in his chin, and blue eyes exactly like the Queen’s. Beside her, Sebastian stiffened. Now he held his knife like a weapon as well as his fork.
“Douglas,” Queen Genevieve said. “When did you arrive?”
“About an hour ago.”
“And what were you doing for an entire hour that you could not appear on time for supper?”
“Come, Mother, you wouldn’t expect me to appear at table dressed in my travel clothes?” Douglas North smiled, a lazy, confident expression that made Fiona feel like stabbing him herself. His eyes swept the length of the table and stopped at Fiona. “Well, well,” he drawled. “And who is this?”
A peculiar feeling began behind Fiona’s eyes, a pressure like a headache, only pleasant instead of painful. She blinked, and the feeling spread like warm butter through her veins, settling in the pit of her stomach and starting a little fire there. Douglas was certainly attractive, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him—
“The lady is Fiona North,” Sebastian said. “My wife.”
The feeling vanished, leaving Fiona cold and sick from more than the horrible mutton. Douglas’s eyebrows quirked upward with astonishment. “Your wife?” he exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself leg-shackled finally! I thought you had an arrangement with Lady Louise Peppard.”
“That was years ago,” Sebastian said, his voice frosty. “Though I don’t expect you to remember the details of my relationships. I’m astonished you can remember the details of yours, as many as you’ve had.”
“That’s enough, Sebastian,” the Queen said. “Douglas, sit up straight and for heaven’s sake use a napkin. Will you be staying long?”
“Until winter’s over,” Douglas said. “Kingsport is so dull this time of year.”
“Fiona is from Kingsport,” Emily said, with the eagerness of someone who wanted to head off a fight. “At least, recently from Kingsport, isn’t that right?”
“Really? I’m surprised we’ve never met,” Douglas said. He leaned back in his chair as the servitors set out the second course, a kind of fish Fiona had never seen before. It was dressed with lemon slices and looked dry and unappetizing. Surely the Queen could afford to hire a better cook? She took a bite and had her guess confirmed; it flaked readily and, she suspected, wasn’t intended to. She watched Sebastian closely and mimicked his choice of utensils, keeping her mouth too full to answer Douglas. Being drawn into conversation by this man…had he really just tried to use his magic on her? She could imagine no other reason why she’d feel compelled to kiss him, here in the middle of the dining room with Sebastian sitting beside her.
“Were you at the Abernathys’ ball at Wintersmeet?” Douglas went on, forking up fish with every evidence of enjoyment. “It was the event of the season.”
“I don’t move in those circles,” Fiona said. “And I was back in Aurilien at Wintersmeet, with my family.”
“Who is your family, then?”
“No one you know. We’re not wealthy or noble.” Her sick feeling at having been the target of his magic sharpened her tongue.
“I see. And Seb married you?” He put the faintest emphasis on “married.” Sebastian shoved his chair back and stood, anger distorting his features.
“Douglas,” his mother said sharply. “Sebastian, sit down. I won’t have fighting at this table.”
“Then you should tell him to mind his manners,” Sebastian snapped. Fiona wished she dared flee. She ducked her head and picked at her fish, which flaked further.
“Oh, I didn’t mean any insult,” Douglas drawled. “I was just surprised that you didn’t choose someone of your own station. Not that I blame you. If I’d seen you first, Fiona, I might have snapped you up before Seb had a chance. How unfortunate.”
“I call it fortunate,” Sebastian said, slowly resuming his seat. His thigh pressed against Fiona’s briefly. She had no idea what it meant—was it a warning? And if so, against what? She already knew Douglas was potentially dangerous. “But I don’t think Fiona is your type.”
“If she fell in love with you, that’s probably true.”
“Douglas,” his mother warned him. Douglas shrugged again and went back to eating.
“Have you been to Veribold often?” Great-Uncle Sebastian asked.
“I used to go frequently, with…on trading journeys,” Fiona replied. The fish, and Douglas’s regard, were making her mouth dry, and she took a drink of wine without thinking. The alcohol, so unfamiliar after all these years, burned her throat. No more for her. “But this was the first time in several years.”
“I spent many years in Veribold when I was young,” Great-Uncle Sebastian said. “I was my mother’s ambassador to the Jaixante, and later, my sister’s. They’re a fascinating people, if a tad standoffish. Do you speak Veriboldan?” he said in that language.
“I do,” Fiona replied in the same tongue. “Though I’m rusty.” His mother. Queen Willow North. It suddenly struck her as ludicrous that she was sitting at table with a man who’d known the first North Queen—of course he’d known her, he was her son. She, Fiona Cooper, rubbing elbows with royalty. It was too ridiculous for words.
“You’ll have to tell me how you found Haizea,” Great-Uncle Sebastian said. “I understand they’ve embraced light Devisery to the same degree we have. In my day, Devices were still a new thing, though my father must have singlehandedly lit Aurilien by the time I was five.”
“In your day, the earth’s crust hadn’t yet cooled,” Landon said, and laughed at his joke. Fiona winced inwardly. She had expected better from the Crown Prince, but it seemed he was the sort of man who lived with his foot in his mouth.
“I’m glad you find my age so amusing,” Great-Uncle Sebastian said coolly. “Coming from someone with the mental age of a five-year-old, that fills me with great hope for the rising generation.”
Landon blinked, looking for all the world like the cousin of Fiona’s fish. “What?”
“Our great-grandfather Kerish North was the most talented Deviser of his generation,” Emily said hastily. “Have you been to the Zedechen Bethel? He invented the Devices that make the statues glow at the solstices.”
“I have. I grew up in Aurilien, remember?” In a neighborhood none of these people would ever have visited. She wished the interminable meal was over, that she was free of them and their tense familial relationships and headed south. Emily was nice enough, but it was clear none of the others knew what to make of her, and felt free to express that confusion as rudeness. Even if some of it was unintentional.
“Oh.” Emily turned away, and Fiona wished she hadn’t sounded so abrupt. Sebastian pressed his thigh against hers once again, but she had no idea what he meant to convey. Gratefully, she leaned back in her chair to allow the servitor to remove her plate, but was taken aback when he set a third plate in front of her, this one with a steaming slice of roast beef and a pile of limp asparagus decorating it. She couldn’t think of anything more expensive than asparagus in winter, and the cook had ruined it by boiling it until it was stringy. So much food…she was already full, and heaven only knew how many more courses were on the way.
She picked at the roast beef, which was unexpectedly tender and delicious, and wished she hadn’t eaten so much of the earlier courses. Sebastian left his asparagus, too. If she were the Queen, she’d fire the cook. But Queen Genevieve seemed perfectly content with her meal, and Landon, who Sebastian had said enjoyed his food, had cleaned every plate put in front of him despite the low quality. This meal couldn’t possibly go on much longer.
Master Thornton, who sat at the Queen’s left hand, had been silent throughout the meal, but now said, “Perhaps we should arrange for a second wedding ceremony. We would not like the people to believe there is anything shady about your union.”
“Fiona and I are satisfied, and it’s nobody else’s business,” Sebastian said.
“You are a prince, and therefore your life is everyone’s business,” Master Thornton said. “Or do you have so little respect for your lady wife that you wish to expose her to gossip?”
“We can discuss it when we return,” Fiona said, quickly overriding whatever Sebastian had been about to say. There was no point arguing over a marriage that didn’t exist. “I think it’s a good idea.”
“If it’s what you want,” Sebastian said. “I still don’t think it’s necessary.”
“Oh, but a big ceremony, and a reception afterward—” Emily said, regaining her spirits. “It will be such fun, Seb!”
“You don’t know that,” Douglas said. “Fiona might not know how to dance. She’s probably not used to high society. You’ll just embarrass her.”
His tone of voice, verging on mocking, made the sick feeling return. Sebastian dropped his napkin on his plate and rose. “I’m going to take Fiona to meet Father now,” he said. “I think we’re finished here.”
“The meal isn’t over, Sebastian,” his mother pointed out.
“I’ve lost my appetite,” Sebastian said. “Fiona?”
She’d never been more grateful to anyone in her life. She laid her napkin across her plate in imitation of Sebastian and accepted his arm. He didn’t exactly drag her out of the room, but he did set a brisk pace that had her stretching to keep up.
They left the dining room and turned left. Sebastian strode down the hall in silence. His face was grim, his jaw clenched. “Sebastian, slow down,” Fiona protested. “I can’t run in this dress.”
“Sorry,” Sebastian said, slowing to a walk. “I hope you were finished eating. You looked as if you were just poking at your food, there at the end.”
“I was. I didn’t have the stomach for most of it.”
“Mother’s taste buds have atrophied over the years. She can’t tell the difference between good and bad food anymore. Her cook is lazy, but Mother won’t fire her because she’s been with the family for so long.” He sighed. “That was a disaster.”
“It wasn’t so bad.”
“I had no idea my family could behave so rudely. I apologize for them.”
Fiona refrained from pointing out that it was exactly what she’d warned him about. “I don’t hold it against you.” It wasn’t his fault he believed the impossible. She was an outsider, and that would never change.