Page 90 of Shadow Mark

Baris examined the claw caps. He had not sent them, but if he had, this was very near what he would have selected. “These are superb quality. This was not an inexpensive mistake.”

“Deliberate?” she asked. “Someone sent it hoping I wouldn’t recognize them and embarrass you. That’s like the one thing I was meant not to do tonight.”

He turned her hand over, exposing her wrist, and placed a kiss there. “That’s not true. You are meant to bring me joy.”

“Happy to help,” she replied, her tone dry in the way that meant she was amused. “It’s always about you, huh?”

“The burden of the crown.” He disliked that someone knew him well enough to anticipate how he would react to the claw caps—badly—and knew to have them delivered alongside other items so that Lenore would not think twice about them. The situation had been engineered to cause a scene for whatever reason.

He had a few candidates in mind.

“Let us remove these,” he said, unclasping the band around her wrist and removing the caps one by one. “And save them for later.”

LENORE

The party was a mistake. She shouldn’t have come. Once they returned from their conversation in the corridor, Baris went to speak with some guest, then another, and Lenore was on her own. She didn’t have a single friend at the party, and the people she did know, well, she was fairly certain they despised her.

It was fine. Well, not fine. It was awkward. Strangers made chit-chat, but Lenore couldn’t relax. She had already made one huge blunder that night with the claw caps, and people noticed. Nia noticed, if the smirk was anything to go by.

This was intolerable. She had lived nearly two and a half years completely submersed in another culture, and she still made such basic blunders. She wore a sex toy to a palace soiree, for crying out loud. And it wasn’t that kind of party. Not that she had experience with those. Not that she had to explain herself.

She was out of sorts. Off-balance. She wanted to go home. She wanted the familiar reassurance of the coffee machine gurgling away on the counter, her father muttering about the cost of gas, and her mother listening to the radio for weather reports. It was a scene she hadn’t experienced since she started university, but she swore it felt like only yesterday.

She always liked the potential of mornings. Some days were calm and leisurely, measured with cups of coffee rather than minutes. On other days, she felt herself winding up, ready to launch into the fray and get shit done. Anything could happen. She liked mornings with Baris. Somehow, between groaning as he rolled out of bed and arriving at the breakfast table, he transformed from a groggy sleeping mess to annoyingly chipper. She liked it even more when his hair was messy.

Baris felt like home. He never filled the quiet with idle chatter, instead focusing on preparing her coffee just the way she liked it with three sugars—don’t judge—and no milk. If she particularly liked a dish, that item had a way of reappearing. He paid attention, and she had to admit that having the most influential person in this sector of the galaxy pay attention to you went to a girl’s head.

Enough to kid herself that she could be a queen? She couldn’t even manage this party. It’d only get worse once the engagement was announced, which would be soon. The realization of that made her queasy. Once the engagement was public, there was no going back. She had to be certain. When she was alone with Baris, when it was just them—no cameras, no politics—there was no question that he was the one. She loved him. Dreaded imagining a life without him.

It was just everything else that came with him that made her stomach ache.

Lenore sat at a table near the entrance, overlooked as people entered and forgotten by the waitstaff, which suited her. Baris would give a speech about Raelle’s years of invaluable service, blah blah blah, she’d clap, and then go home.

“You’re not having a good time.” Lydia slung herself down into the chair next to Lenore. “I don’t know why people invite you to these things.”

“I assure you, I have no idea. How did you swing an invitation?”

“I,” Lydia said, pressing a hand to her chest and speaking with authority, “am fun at parties.”

“Your boss made you come to mingle,” Lenore said.

“To liven up the place, I think. The general audience seems to have a lot of gray and silver going on up top.”

The crowd was older but not that old, in Lenore’s opinion. “Oh, you’re a baby. Everyone looks old to you.”

“Have you taken a look at that sculpture? I haven’t been able to get close.”

“It’s a gift from the king,” Lenore said. Baris had mentioned that he selected a piece from the royal collection to give to Raelle.

“Is it famous?”

“You’re the one who’s into arts and culture. You tell me.”

“You don’t have a drink. Come on.” Lydia pulled Lenore to her feet and headed for the nearest drinks tray.

Lenore didn’t put up any resistance and accepted a tall, fluted glass. The taste was cool and tart, meant to be sipped at a slow pace. She was grateful to have a friend at the party. It didn’t take long for Lenore to notice how Lydia swayed on her feet and her words slurred.

“How much have you had to drink?” she asked.