Diomere's Exile

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Nadia marked her place and closed the book. After reading the last paragraph half a dozen times, she knew reading wasn’t going to distract her from thoughts of Gregor. Neither waiting for her nephew’s reply to what she’d told him nor guild business could keep her mind from obsessing over him the last two days. The memory of his declaration of love coupled with the hurt she’d caused had nearly sent her over to see him so many times, the consequences be damned.

Tilting her head back, she massaged her temples. Focus on making your nephew safe first.

The door opened with a soft hiss. Nadia palmed a dagger, opening her eyes only a crack so it appeared they remained closed. Arri popped her head in, and Nadia slid the dagger back into its sheath.

Her sister rolled her eyes. “Because someone intent on your murder wouldn’t be noticed by the twenty guild members lounging outside your door.”

“It’s the ones you trust who have the potential to be the most dangerous.”

Arri shook her head. “Right.” She held up a gold-edged card. “We’ve been invited by Prince Stefan to a dinner held in our honor for saving Gregor’s life.”

“Nothing from Prince Reis?”

“No, but I bet he’s there. Gregor did nearly die while saving his life.”

Nadia took the invitation and read it. “Tonight. Good. Gods willing, our nephew will have made his inquiries and given me some indication that he believes me.”

“I don’t doubt he will. I’m going to get ready. Remember, it’s a formal occasion.” Her sister gave her wrinkled salvar and dirty boots an arched look. “I’ll order a bath ready and waiting for you at the Emerald Mermaid.”

Nadia stuck her tongue out at her sister. Juvenile, yes, but also satisfying. Arriana rolled her eyes and left to start primping.

She placed her book on the teetering stack beside her chaise and stretched muscles stiff from that morning’s workout. A bath did sound good. With a sigh, she stood and followed her sister across the common area, stopping to speak with Sarna, Gordon, and the other single guild members who didn’t have families. Two of their youngest members moved around in the kitchen area, both having been assigned cooking duty for the evening meal. She laughed with them as they haggled the two young men, the cave echoing with laughter.

By the time she stepped through the stone wall into her rooms at the Mermaid, a bath waited. She’d just stepped out of the tub, hair dripping down her back, when someone knocked.

Wrapping a towel around her body, she squeezed the water from her hair. “I’m bathing,” she yelled. “State your business.”

Sarna’s dry voice carried through the door. “Lady Quinones requests your presence in her chamber. Something about making sure you look presentable.”

“Tell my sister to kiss my ass.”

“I think I’ll let you do that, m’lady.”

She sighed and opened the door. “Did I ever say I was glad to have that little harpy here?” She pointed a finger as the other woman lifted a brow and opened her mouth to reply. “If you’re going to say something sarcastic, then you can close your trap.”

“Stupid question, sarcastic answer,” Sarna said with a shrug.

Nadia scowled at her third. “What’s that? You wish to go through this same torture and join us this evening?”

Sarna scowled. “You wouldn’t.”

Nadia smiled. “When we find my nephew, you’ll assume command of Vromia Guild. Don’t you think it prudent that you become familiar with the ruling class?”

“You had me memorize all their names and faces ages ago,” the other woman said in a bored voice. “And I’m perfectly happy being your third. I’m still hoping you’ll find a reason to stay.”

Her thoughts turned to Gregor. “It isn’t as easy a decision as I thought it’d be.” Sarna raised her eyebrows, but Nadia turned away from the question in the other woman’s gaze and opened her armoire. “Tell my sister I’ll be over as soon as I’ve finished dressing.”

Her sister would, no doubt, dress in full Diomerean formal wear. Knowing she could do no less, she pulled a thigh-length tunic and matching salvar, both in black silk with gold embroidery at hem and cuff, and gold sandals from the armoire’s depths.

She wrapped her wet hair in the towel and twisted it on top of her head, then pulled on the clothes. After wrapping a sheer black scarf with the same gold embroidery around her neck, she opened the door and went down the hall to the guest suite and her sister.

Arriana turned as she stepped through the door, her sister taking in her clothing with a nod. “Only you could make wearing salvar alluring.”

Nadia shrugged and sat in the chair her sister had indicated. “Skirts are impractical. I conceded to them for the dinner with Gregor because you insisted, but this is my preferred method of official dress.” She shot her sister a smug smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m willing to admit that it might have its advantages,” her sister said.

Nadia held a thin black dagger and sheath out for her sister to take. She hadn’t bothered doing her own hair. Her sister would just redo it.

“This needs to be hidden in whatever you do so that’s it’s easy to get to.” Nadia closed her eyes as her sister brushed out her hair.

When she finished, Nadia admired the elegant style that wrapped from one temple, around her head, and over the opposite shoulder. It hung in a loose reverse weave around the dagger hidden in the braid over her left breast.

She nodded. “You’ll have to teach this one to Geeta. The dagger is much easier to get to.”

Arriana raised a brow. “Because who cares about how beautiful it is.”

Nadia shrugged and led them out of the chamber, biting back a smile as her sister sighed behind her. They made the trip up the mountain in comfortable silence, having already determined that if their nephew had told Prince Stefan of her visit, he’d have sent guards instead of an invitation to dinner.

The coach wound its way up the hill to the royal palace and its crown of spires, a god gazing down on the city of Volos from the heavens. They pulled through the massive front gate, the eyes of the square tower daring them to bring harm to those inside. Turning at the second gate, they wound around the massive palace grounds on a paved road in the same tan stone as the palace and its walls until they came to Prince Stefan’s wing.

Servants in the crown prince’s colors helped them out of the carriage and escorted them through a stone door carved with the royal crest. They were shown into a great room lined with stone pillars and dark and light marble inlaid floors. Chandeliers dripping in sparkling crystals hung along the center of the room from the ceiling’s arched peaks, bathing the room in a golden glow.

Tables surrounded by cushioned chairs lined the room where Stefan, Reis, and many of the crown prince’s retinue, including Gregor, gathered in small groups chatting to one another. When they were announced, conversation stopped and all eyes turned to them. Nadia couldn’t help but look up at Gregor as he crossed toward her behind Prince Stefan and Prince Reis.

His cool gaze heated as it moved from her head, lingering on her breasts and hips, before traveling back up to her face. Desire shot through her body, straight to her suddenly damp center, and she shifted. Gregor smiled, knowing exactly how he affected her. She forced herself to look away as Prince Stefan stopped in front of them.

She met Prince Reis’ troubled eyes before her attention moved to the smiling crown prince. “Welcome to you both,” he said cheerfully, his sharp gaze missing nothing. “You honor us with your presence.”

Nadia bowed. “My sister is the healer responsible, your highness. I simply got him to her as fast as possible.”

Prince Stefan turned his smile onto her sister, who blushed, as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. “You have my unending gratitude, Lady Quinones. Gregor and I have been friends since we were boys, and I would have been heartbroken to lose him. Thank you.”

“I only did what any person of my profession would. I’m just happy that I happened to be visiting when it happened,” Arri said demurely.

“Seeing as how it’s my life you saved, I couldn’t agree more,” Gregor said, from behind the prince.

Nadia couldn’t help the skip of her heart at the sound of that quiet voice. He moved closer, until he stood next to Prince Stefan. Turning his attention to Arri, he bowed. “Thank you, m’lady.”

“You are quite welcome, Gregor.”

He turned a smoldering gaze to Nadia and stepped forward. Lifting her hand, he bowed and turned her hand over to press a warm kiss to the underside of her wrist. She jerked as she felt his tongue flick against her skin. A shiver moved up her body. Their eyes locked.

“Your quick acting saved my life as much as your sister’s healing abilities, Lady de Quinones. For this I am eternally grateful,” he said, his voice low.

“I could do nothing less, m’lord.”

“Couldn’t you?” he asked, his smile causing her muscles to quiver low in her stomach.

Dinner was announced and Gregor tucked her hand into the crook of his arm to lead her into the dining room behind Stefan. His elbow brushed her breast and desire arched through her body. Nadia blushed and then clenched her jaw at his knowing expression. She attempted to pull her arm from his, but he refused to release her, instead closing his other hand over hers and rubbing his thumb over the inside of her wrist. Her thighs clenched even as she fumed at his high handedness. Gregor led her to a chair to Stefan’s right, keeping hold of her hand as he took the seat next to her. Reis escorted Arri to seats on Prince Stefan’s right. The rest of the courtiers sat by rank around the long table, their conversation filling the room.

A servant set a tureen holding a fragrant broth with mushrooms floating in it between her and Gregor, ladled a serving into the small bread bowls sitting on the silver trencher in front of each of them, then bowed and left. Nadia tugged on her hand and shot Gregor an annoyed look when he wouldn’t release her. Holding his gaze, she picked up her spoon with her left hand and dipped it into her bowl. Gregor’s eyes followed the spoon as she lifted it to her mouth, then heated as she slipped it between her lips. Muscles low in her stomach quivered, and she looked away from the desire so clear on his face.

Stefan glanced between her and Gregor, his brow lifted. “Gregor has shared a little of what brought you to my country. Have you had any luck with your search?”

She smiled, trying to ignore that Gregor held her hand pressed to his thigh. “It’s going well.”

“I’d like to offer you my assistance. My country is unaware that such a treasure has been hidden under our noses and would be honored to assist in returning it to you.”

Nadia shook her head. “That is a generous offer, your highness. But unnecessary.”

Prince Stefan’s brows lifted.

“It’s nothing personal, your highness. I, too, offered my assistance and was turned down. It seems there really are people out there who don’t wish to use us, even when the assistance is freely offered,” Gregor said, the ease of his tone belying the hint of challenge in his narrow gaze.

Nadia faced Stefan and smiled, but she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. The prince glanced between the two of them, his expression thoughtful.

Seeing her sister’s discomfort, Arri leaned forward. “My sister tells me that Thuno produces the maple syrup that’s used on meats and in porridge here. I’ve never tasted anything so divine. Sugar or honey is used to sweeten everything in Diomere, but I think my people would love this flavor cooked on their meats, especially bacon. Do you produce enough to export it?”

Prince Stefan smiled and pointed to a man farther down the table. “You’ll want to speak with Lord Adula. His family owns our top producing sugar wood.”

Nadia’s attention strayed from the conversation and back to her trapped hand. She attempted to curl her fingers into a fist and pull her hand from Gregor’s grasp, but he tightened his hold. She lowered her head and looked up at him through her lashes, then bit her lip and slid her fingers closer to his groin. He pressed his hand over hers, halting her progress. Nadia licked her bottom lip and dug her nails into his thigh. Gregor released a strangled breath and released her. Nadia fluttered her fingers, grazing his erection, then pulled her hand back into her own lap.

Inhaling deeply, he leaned toward her and clamped a hand on the back of her neck and pressed his lips to her ear. “You’re going to pay for that, love. I promise.”

Her stomach fluttered. She clenched her thighs to ease the ache of desire pulsing in her core, avoiding his gaze as he sat back in his seat. Tension buzzed between them as the soggy bread bowl was removed and a platter, holding two roasted fish covered in a sweet onion sauce, replaced it. Nadia, normally possessed of a healthy appetite, picked at her fish, her focus the deep rumble of Gregor’s voice as he spoke with Stefan and each brush of his arm as he reached for his wine. The fish was followed by a pork and fruit pie topped with roasted chicken. And finally, the meal ended with a cherry pudding which had her sweets-loving sister’s eyes fluttering in ecstasy. The dining room doors were opened as Prince Stefan pushed back from the table and stood. Nadia shoved her seat back and followed before Gregor could once again confiscate her hand. They moved to the prince’s drawing room with its gold damask walls and plush couches, where sweetmeats and spiced wine waited on a sideboard.

As the guests made their way from the dining room, servants moved among them with trays of wine. Prince Stefan took a glass and lifted it once everyone had been served. “Tonight’s gathering is in honor of Lord Cyrene, who saved my brother’s life, nearly losing his own. We also honor Lady de Quinones and her sister, who both played a part in saving Lord Cyrene’s life. I truly appreciate all three of you. You have my heartfelt gratitude.” The prince drank.

The other guests lifted their glasses and said, “Hear, hear.”

The prince sat, and soon the room buzzed with conversation. Arri engaged Prince Stefan and Gregor in conversation, leaving Nadia free to speak with their nephew.

“Prince Reis, would you care to join me for a game of draughts or chess?” she asked, gesturing toward the small table across the room inlaid with black and ivory tiles.

Her nephew glanced at the table then back at her. “I’d be honored, Lady de Quinones.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Gregor’s head turn, his gaze following them to the game table. Nadia took her seat as Reis took the gold and silver disks from the table’s single drawer. Handing her the silver bag, Reis kept his attention on the gold disks as he placed each on its appropriate square. Nadia did the same, then looked up to meet the startling dual colored eyes of her nephew, his brow wrinkled.

“You really believe I’m—”

“The Crown Prince of Diomere, His Royal Highness Areisteo de Amadeus y Quinones, Infante de Isere,” Nadia interrupted, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

Her nephew dropped his gaze, but Nadia knew he wasn’t looking at the game pieces. “My brother told me that my mother disappeared after announcing her pregnancy, then reappeared after I was born. My age and the time she was gone were right, so no one really questioned her claims.” He looked up, his brows lowered over eyes flashing with anger. “All this time, being treated as if I wasn’t worthy, believing myself my fa”—he glanced up at Nadia—“Dieuroi Mavros’ bastard.”

Nadia reached out and moved one of her silver disks on the board. “Your mother believes fate stepped in, robbed you of knowledge of your birthright, in order to prepare you for a difficult rule. On the night you were taken, she saw you sitting upon Diomere’s throne, sharks circling the island.”

Following her lead, Reis moved one of his gold disks, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. “Mondami is a myth. The gates don’t exist,” the prince recited as if repeating lessons drilled into him. Nadia moved her next silver disk, then looked up at him. Reis sighed. “Another lie.” He ran a hand through his black hair. “I’m not Sa’i, am I?”

Nadia called her a’mi, focusing on air, and a soft breeze ruffled her nephew’s hair. He jerked his gaze up to hers.

Nodding toward the table, she used the air to move her next disk without a finger touching it. “The royal family has long been the keeper of the last gate between the worlds of the Sa’i and the A’mi.” She crossed her arms and muttered. “Though, apparently, the other gates still exist.”

Her nephew took his turn. “I should tell my brother, er, I mean, Prince Stefan.” His shoulders drooped. “I’ll miss not having Stefan as my brother.”

Nadia studied the board, then moved one of her disks out of the path of Reis’ gold ones. “The bond you’ve developed with Thuno’s heir is one that may come in useful if what my sister saw comes to pass.”

“So you’re my aunt and the captain of my guard, like Lord Cyrene is lord commander of Stefan’s guard?”

Uncomfortable at the comparison with Gregor, Nadia shook her head. “Not anymore. It’s my fault that you were taken and my responsibility to see you returned to Diomere.”

“If fate decreed this to be my life’s course, there isn’t really anything you could have done to stop Jasara from taking me, could you have?” he asked, tilting his head as was his mother’s habit.

Nadia smiled. “You’re every bit as smart as your mother. She’ll be so excited to teach you of our history and your place in it.”

“She’s missed me, then?” the prince asked. And his gaze was so hopeful that Nadia vowed to hunt Jasara down and make her pay for ever letting this precious boy miss out on a mother’s love.

“Very much. She writes me for updates every month and prays daily to the gods for your safe return.”

“And my father?”

“He has aged greatly since you were taken. They both want you back and safe in their care.”

The prince leaned back. “Then let us go tell my brother. He will help me find the first ship headed to Diomere.”

“No.”

He lifted a brow.

“He’ll be forced to choose between loyalty to his king and loyalty to the heir of another nation. He’ll be honor bound to tell his father,” she said.

“You really think Dieuroi Mavros would harm me if he discovers who I really am?”

Nadia nodded. “With Stefan’s engagement to Madelena official, the Dieuroi sees his son ruling both nations when he dies. I don’t believe a king who refers to himself as dieuroi, god king, will allow an opportunity to gain power over Diomere’s valuable shipping trade just sail away with the next tide. Do you?” she said, maneuvering one of her silver disks to jump one of his gold ones.

Reis’ shoulders sagged. “You’re right. Dieuroi Mavros covets the combined power of a marriage between Thuno and Diomere. And he is much more volatile even in his lucid moments.” He leaned forward to study the board, picking up one of his disks and jumping one of hers. “What would you suggest we do instead?”

Gregor, who’d been sitting with Stefan and Arri, stood and crossed toward her.

Nadia smiled, shot Reis a triumphant look, and jumped two of his gold disks with hers. Turning her head so Gregor couldn’t see her quiet response, she said, “We make you disappear.”

Gregor pressed his palm against Nadia’s back and leaned over her shoulder. “She’s making your gold disappear faster than usual, my prince,” Gregor said, looking down at the game board. “You two seem to be having a serious conversation. A strategy I’ll have to remember.” He smiled at Nadia. “His highness usually has Druj’s favor when we play this game.”

Nadia smirked at him. “Either you let him win, or you aren’t as good at strategy as I first thought.”

“Lord Cyrene doesn’t let me win.” Reis frowned. “Do you, Gregor?”

Gregor held her gaze for a moment, then glanced over at Reis with a smile. “Rest easy, my prince. You’ve beaten me soundly with no help on my part.” He studied the board again. “Stefan requests your presence. I can take your place here, though I can’t say as I’ll be able to do much better than you are.”

Reis stood and bowed to Nadia. “It was a pleasure, Lady de Quinones. I hope you’ll return soon and give me a chance to redeem myself.”

“I would be happy to, your highness. Thank you for keeping me company.”

Reis bowed again, then turned and crossed the room to join Prince Stefan and those sitting with him.

Gregor took Reis’ deserted seat, studied the board, then moved a gold disk. “That must have been a heavy conversation,” he said, his gaze jumping up to lock with hers.

Nadia focused on the board, then smiled. Picking up one of her silver disks, she jumped three of his, then looked up. “Or I’m just that good.”