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“Nonsense.” Reiks is all casual indifference. “I’m just furthering my ruse. You might as well take what you can out of it.”
I should keep protesting. This set looks like royal jewelry. I dread to think what they must have cost. But I don’t want to.
“I’m not wearing them with jeans,” I state.
Reiks chuckles softly. “That’s what you get for being peevish. You’re not succeeding in annoying me, for the record. I quite like you in jeans.”
Damn him.
“Leave it in the car.”
I nod, and reluctantly close the lid. I could look at it forever. “Thank you, Reiks. It’s wonderful. Far too much, when one remembers I already owe you millions.”
“Good thing I’m a prince, feather.”
“Does your father know you’re wasting the kingdom’s resources on your fake girlfriend?” I can’t help pushing his buttons, but it’s all right. He likes it.
“I would never,” he chuckles. “I have an inheritance from my mother’s side of the family. My grandfather used to run a successful trading business until his passing. He only had one daughter, so his fortune, as well as his company, was divided between my mother and myself. I don’t manage the daily operations, naturally, but the company’s still thriving.”
“How about your sister?” I frown, trying to place Dyfina in all that.
“We have different mothers. Hers is rather beautiful, but sadly not as wealthy as most members of my father’s harem.”
“Ah.” That might explain why Dyfina’s not treated as well as a princess should be.
It’s fucking ridiculous, but logical, if one considers the fact that their father is a prick.
The hovercraft slows to a stop, and Reiks frowns, glancing out of the tinted window. He presses on a button on his door. “Korin?”
“The road’s blocked ahead. Just a few kids skating past. It shouldn’t take a minute.”
Reiks’s expression remains tight. I see his square jaw tick.
“You’re really anxious about this,” I note. “The unrest you mentioned.”
Reiks’s steely stare rests on me. “I am. You might be, too, if your circle of interest spread further than a hundred well defended demis who reside at the end of Xhera.”
I feel the sting of the accusation, though his tone is casual. He’s right, I tend to not look much further than my borders. Most people do, really.
“For the present, I’ll settle with getting to the club in one piece.”
The craft resumes its slow crawl through the city streets, and Reiks seems to relax.
“If you’re afraid something’s going to happen, why bother going to a party?”
“Because I must, feather. Have you never heard of the greater good?” Now, he doesn’t disguise his contempt.
“Oh, because drinking with your friends is for the greater good, now? Pfft.” He has me on the defensive.
“If you think I invitedfriends, you weren’t paying attention.”
I think back to the list of names I wrote over a week ago already. I didn’t recognize the greater part of them, but some names did ring a bell. Like Gillan Toress, I think. I don’t know Gillan personally, but the Toress clan are titans in the hovercraft manufacturing business. And Wollana Plover must belong to the great farming company from Flaur who’s feeding most of the world with their crops.
“So, the party’s all business?”
He nods.
“What’s the plan?”
