Page 79 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

Her lips pursed with a pop, and we shuffled down the steps.

“I’m waiting for an ‘I told you so’,” I said.

“Unnecessary. It’s implied.”

“You know, Temi.” I paused for a moment, locking onto her gaze, affection flooding through me like a tide coming in. “I’ve missed seeing you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

We reached the double doors where hums of conversation trailed from, and she squeezed my fingers before parting ways. I’d eaten in the palace’s dining room dozens of times, but for Epiphany’s dinner, the space—already grand to begin with—was transformed. Attendants had swapped the draping fabrics hanging around the high ceilings for swathes of royal purple. Thousands of candles burned along the table which sat draped in layers of linens.

Hundreds of people stood behind their seats, some talking, all dressed grandly. I ambled down until I reached the chair beside Hyacinth’s richly decorated one. The woman next to me dipped her head in my direction, her eyes widening, her throat bobbing, before turning back to her conversation. Shuffling away from the marks of deity I bore. I didn’t blame her. I wish I could separate from it myself.

The chattering of the crowd hushed as doors at the front of the room opened.

Hyacinth stepped in with both of his siblings. Emrin had an ivory robe on, embroidered with tan thread. Epiphany had donned a gown in champagne that fitted to her form, glittering jewelry draping over her neck and dangling from her ears.

But Hyacinth.

He wore a robe in a soft brown with a cream lapel and cuffs, his crown perched over his dark hair, his chin raised, shoulders back.

I’d once seen that as arrogance from him.

I knew now it wasn’t that, but rather him bracing himself, acting out lies to give the room what they expected to see. A prince, draped in finery, steel in his eyes.

The trio separated, and Hyacinth walked over to his seat.

He stood so close to me, and yet his expression remained cool, his gaze trailing everyone in the space. He nodded and people shuffled, chairs scraping over the rug, jewelry jangling as the group took their seats.

I leaned in towards him. “Evening, Prince.”

One corner of his lip twitched. “Glad to see you, golden boy.”

“Ugh.” I grabbed my goblet, disappointment gnawing at me to find it empty. “I came here as an aberration, for your sake. You think you’d be nice to me.”

Hyacinth drew closer to me. The color of his outfit enhanced the hazel of his irises, and my heart tripped into my throat. He held my gaze—many wouldn’t, not when my eyes glowed like they did—and he smiled. “My lord”—he skimmed over me—“an aberration is the last word I’d use to describe you tonight.”

In an odd and uncomfortable turn of events for me, words tangled up on my tongue, refusing to form. A smile pinched at his lips again, and he bobbed his head before turning to the person sitting on his other side.

And those feelings that kept slinking around me burned through me again, crackling my nerves like an inferno raged. And, gods, it was stupid. If Hyacinth was anyone else—anyone except my mentor, except the person I was supposed to spend the next year with, except someone rapidly becoming a confidante, maybe even a friend—if he was anyone other than that, I would have long since offered him an invitation to my bed and just as quickly discarded him.

But he was someone else entirely.

I wasn’t even sure I understood who.

Except that I wished to know.

I should have ignored the spark that seemed to ignite between us, the way our bodies hovered towards the other. No lover of mine was truly safe. So, I should have disregarded it for his sake.

I should have.

But, then again, I wasn’t well known for prudent decisions.

An attendant walked up, bowing over, pouring wine into Hyacinth’s goblet and then mine. Her hair rippled like an ocean’s tide and her sparkling eyes flicked in my direction. I leaned over to Hyacinth once she moved farther down and whispered, “You have beautiful attendants here.”

His jaw tensed, his expression tightening, but a smile played at his lips. “Leave my attendants alone.”

I swished the wine in my glass. “Are you going to tell me you do?”