Page 34 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

“No,” I said. “He’s a friend.”

A muscle in her jaw jumped, but she nodded again. “Very well.” She gestured to a guard. “When you retrieve your friend, return here, and Esson will lead you into the dining room. And”—another grin slashed across Sappho’s mouth—“I hope you brought your appetites.”

I sighed as she returned into the house and pulled Epiphany with me. “Come on,” I whispered. “Let’s get Val.”

Epiphany shuddered. “I don’t feel good about this place.”

“Me either. Which is part of the reason I want us to stay together.” We clambered across a lawn and into the stables, a weathered stone building that didn’t hold the grandeur of the barns at Epiphany’s palace.

Valerian swung himself out of a stall and gestured to one of our guards, who led a mare farther into the barn. “No. She needs to be by Meadow. She’s had an anxious disposition on this trip. Let’s put her beside another horse that might calm her.”

“Valerian,” I said.

He turned around and brushed his hands through his hair, his gaze darting to Epiphany, who bowed her head. Valerian studied her for a moment, his eyes shimmering, before he shifted back to me. “Yes?”

“Come to dinner with us.”

His mouth dropped. “I… I can’t. The horses… and…” He cleared his throat. “I have nothing to wear.”

“Don’t you have one of your good uniforms?”

“Well.” He scraped his fingers over his jaw. “I do.”

“Great. Wear that. Leave the insignias off.”

He sighed again but then nodded, his gaze catching on Epiphany, who hadn’t lifted her face. “All right. Give me a moment to instruct the men on what else to do here and let me change.”

Twenty minutes later, the three of us strode back to the house and allowed the guard to usher us into a large hall decorated with shimmering gold silks and tiled marble flooring. Esson gestured into a space where the sharp sounds of flutes trailed from.

“Thank you,” Epiphany said. And we stepped in.

The room held hundreds of silk fabrics in as many colors that laced across the ceiling and draped over the walls. A low table hugged the floor, and large cushions sat tucked beneath it. In the corner, musicians played and the pattering beat of a drum and bright notes of a stringed instrument blended together into a barrage of sounds that dominated the space. A warm, spicy smell permeated the air.

“Ah.” Sappho stood at the head of the table, clapping her hands. “Our guests. Let me introduce you to my partner, Phaon.” She gestured to a woman with auburn hair, bundled up under a headband, her skin sparkling, her large brown eyes trailing over us.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance,” Epiphany said, curtsying, and I joined her.

“Please, find seats, so we can discuss what you have visited us for.” Sappho draped back down on her cushion. Phaon leaned in against her, resting her head on her shoulder, and Sappho smirked, snatching a grape off a platter and feeding it to her.

Epiphany and I trailed to one side of the table, lowering onto large cushions and Valerian took a seat across from us, next to Sappho. She grinned again and leaned into him. “My, you are a beautiful specimen. Which of these ladies is your lover that dragged you in here like a cat bringing a bird to my feet?”

He coughed. “I… Well…”

I tapped my fingers against the table. “He’s my friend. Thank you for inviting us to dinner. King Magnes’ advisors have told me you may have answers to some of my questions.”

Sappho clicked her tongue and wagged a finger at me. “No questions until I’ve properly fed and entertained you. No one visits Sappho’s island without leaving with a story to tell.” She smiled again, her eyes reflecting the candlelight.

Hair raised on the back of my neck, and something sunk down in my stomach. The king had said he trusted this woman. I understood his hesitance now. Everything about her implied she knew things she wasn’t sharing. There was little I liked less than manipulative people. And her reputation was not stellar. Maybe it wasn’t fair to jump to conclusions, but something about her made me hesitate. And my intuition rarely led me astray.

But I settled into my seat though every muscle in my body tensed and the weight of my knives pressed against my leg. King Magnes felt comfortable enough with Sappho to let Epiphany come along. He didn’t expect her to harm us seriously, or he never would have agreed. He was protective of his children—overprotective, really. So, if he didn’t think Sappho would poison us or have some other nefarious intent, I could sit and eat a meal. But I trusted this woman about as little as I esteemed a god.

Epiphany raised her chin. “Thank you for hosting us. You have a lovely home.”

“That’s kind of you, my dear.” Sappho reached across Phaon and patted Epiphany’s hand. She paused and frowned. “Oh, but not such a good time for you, is that right?”

Epiphany’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Are you not heartbroken? Or have I read you wrong?”