Page 49 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

Rocha gestured to the food, and we made plates. Apollo took a drink of the wine. “I’ve discovered I’ve believed a lie.”

Rocha’s eyebrows shot up. “What would that be, my lord?”

Apollo smirked. “Here I had thought I’d tasted the most divine wines on earth. And, yet, it rests here in the kingdom of Niria all along.” He tilted his glass. “This is delightful.”

Rocha’s face shined, his cheeks taking on a faint touch of pink. “From my father-in-law’s vineyards, my lord. His oldest vintage. I’m glad to hear it pleases you.”

Apollo took another drink, nodding. I cleared my throat. “I’ve taken into consideration the issue with the roads.”

Rocha nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“I plan to address it with my advisors this afternoon. I understand the level of priority this is for traders, such as yourself. And I’m very grateful for your patience as we work through it. I hope to have it resolved before the end of next week.”

“A thousand thanks.” Rocha bobbed his head again and then turned to Apollo. “Would it be acceptable for me to ask a question of you, my lord?”

Apollo grinned. “It would be my honor.”

“What country are you from that is making alliances with our prince?” He chuckled and thrust his hands out. “Forgive me.” He tapped his temple. “I’m a tradesperson through and through. Always thinking about connections.”

I cleared my throat. “He’s—”

Apollo placed his hand on my knee beneath the table.

He spoke, but for a moment, I couldn’t register the words.

His touch wove through me, making me excruciatingly aware of each twitch of my muscle, of the weight of his palm resting against me.

Apollo shrugged. “My sister and I hail from Danari, but we’ve been living in the countryside of Kaseon. Our family works towards rebuilding our fortunes after our displacement.”

Rocha took a hesitant bite of a strawberry, swallowing before responding. “You must have some”—he smirked—“high connections to be so closely tied with royalty.”

The brazen nature of his comment swept through me. But Apollo laughed, moving his hand off of me. My leg burned where the weight of it had rested. He scraped that same hand through his curls. “I see why you’re so successful.” A mischievous glint flashed over his eyes. “Do you dabble in the olive trade?”

Rocha shrugged, thrusting his lip out. “Olives only have moderate success here.”

“Have you heard of the Lucques cultivar?”

Rocha shook his head.

“I wouldn’t suspect so.” Apollo tugged off a bite of bread and drank another swallow of wine before continuing. “They make an olive oil so fresh and well rounded in flavor they’re nearly as good as your wine.”

Rocha clicked his tongue. “Forgive me for having doubts, my lord. But, olive oil isn’t very popular here.”

Apollo tore a section of the loaf, warmth still rising from it in tendrils. “Ah, but you've never tasted this type. It’s not intended for cooking. You must try it fresh. Dip bread in it.” He wiggled the piece in his hand. “And then assure your customers it’s as rare a delight as it tastes. It would go for a very high price, I think.”

Rocha’s eyes had widened with his speech, his gaze growing distant. “And if I were interested in trying this Luc—”

“Lucques cultivar.”

Rocha nodded.

Apollo grinned. “If you give me a reed and an inkpot, I’d be happy to write an address for you. And you may use my name for your inquiries.”

Later, as we marched back through the crowds, I smiled and waved, but my thoughts swept over that conversation. As the palace gates clanged closed behind us, I turned towards Apollo. “Have you worked with tradespeople before?”

He clicked his tongue and pulled his sash off, stuffing into his knapsack. “Only minimally.”

“You seemed so natural in the environment. I guess it surprised me.”