Page 35 of The Never List
Mirren laughs, high-pitched and sharp. “You’re something. I don’t know what yet, but definitely…something.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say as she leads theway out of the room.
“I don’t know if you should,” she mutters under her breath, but I let it drop. “Your things will be delivered to your rooms at Kal’s estate while he takes you to the city,” she explains as we walk through the palace. She has to grip my arm and tug me along several times because I keep stopping to admire the art.
Regardless of how much I dislike the kings—especially Baydel, after his cruel littletest—their taste in art is exquisite. Or perhaps they had nothing to do with selecting it and the credit lies in someone else’s hands. Either way, I’ve never seen anything like it.
Unless you count Erin’s art, which I do. She’s skilled with any kind of paint and canvas, whether it be a rock wall or a flat piece of wood. She made everything more beautiful in the small hut we called home, and she sometimes delighted in decorating the walls of crumbling buildings in the Ashlands, only for the enforcers to demand it be cleaned whenever they found it.
Her art could be on these walls. Could compete with the beautiful canvases in gilded frames. My heart aches. I need to play this game well. If I gain enough of their trust, maybe they can help me find her.
We turn a corner, and Mirren stops so fast, I nearly topple over her. Immediately, she gives a small bow, and I follow suit. “Your majesty,” she says, her words flustered as if she can’t catch her breath.
Jullian Erhart shifts a book in his hands, smiling down at her fondly. “Mirren,” he says with familiarity. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jullian?”
I rise from my bow, clamping my lips shut as I glancebetween them.
Mirren stands as well but keeps her head dipped. “How many times must I tell you that it’s improper?”
The king steps closer to her, lowering his voice. “Nothing is improper when it comes to you.”
Oh my goddess.Is Jullian Erhart flirting with Mirren? Is that a flushed smirk I see on her lips?
“Rylee,” he says, shifting his attention to me. “Did you sleep well?”
“Until she woke me up,” I say, and Mirren glares at me over her shoulder. I shrug, grinning at her.
He laughs, and the sound isn’t as deplorable as I would’ve imagined. Just like last night, he seems the most approachable king of the bunch. He eyes my blue outfit. “I thought you were accompanying Kal to the Ruby Aire today.”
“I am,” I say, folding my hands behind my back.
He looks at Mirren, who shakes her head in adon’t ask mekind of way. It’s cute, the little silent communication they have. I wonder how long Mirren has worked for the kings and their sons and make a mental note to ask her later.
The king studies me again, then releases a soft chuckle. “Clever,” he says, pointing the book at my outfit. “Very clever.” He smiles at Mirren, then me. “I hope you have a wonderful time with my son,” he says before striding past us.
Mirren releases a tight breath, and I nudge her with my elbow as we continue our journey. “What was that about?” I whisper.
“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” she says, chin tipped high, her stride determined until we reach a goldenelevator.
“Oh, come on,” I say, keeping my voice low. “There was some serious chemistry happening there. Are you and the king—”
“Of course not.” Her tone is hushed. “He’s a king, mated to the goddess Neph. It would be—”
“Improper?” I tease, and she shoots me another glare as we wait for the elevator.
“That’s enough of that,” she says with finality, and I bite back my grin.
Jullian Erhart mated the goddess Neph, and she’s Kal’s mother. The same goddess whose gift runs through my blood. I wonder if that’s why I felt so safe with Kal, felt drawn to him? If that’s why his father is less abhorrent to me? He certainly was kind last night, even defying his own friend, and he clearly has affection for Mirren. If that is possible, then maybe all the kings aren’t as emotionless and entitled as I originally thought. Maybe there’s hope for change—
The elevator doors slide open, breaking my train of thought.
“I told you to handle it.” Baydel’s voice is harsh from inside the elevator. “And yet somehow it evades you.” He’s yelling at another man dressed in an elite enforcer uniform—black leather, golden vest, and a diamond-encrusted helmet covering his face. There is a numberoneemblazoned on the upper right shoulder of the uniform, identifying him as Baydel’s personal guard. “If you weren’t hand selected, I would have you thrown in the dungeons with all my best torturers to teach you a thing or two about failing me.”
My previous hopeful feelings turn to ash in my mouth. Baydel takes his eyes off his elite enforcer and steps out ofthe elevator. He ignores Mirren completely and stops before me. The enforcer follows him, silent and stoic with his duty.
“I thought that when I ran into you this morning, I told you to dress her for Kal,” Baydel says, visibly scrutinizing my outfit.
“Yes, your majesty,” Mirren answers, the fire leached from her voice.
