Page 72 of Shadow Queen
“Phillip waits for the moment to avenge his youngest brother and kill Gregor. Japheth needsyou.”
“He clearly doesn’t!” he snapped. “And if he’s not with me, he’s against me, and then I have to remove him.” She took a step back, and his shoulders fell. “I don’t expect you to understand how any of this works,” he said shortly.
Norah raised a brow, a flash of anger coming to her cheeks. “Fine. Sinceyouknow how this all works, I’ll leave you to continue planning how you’ll loseallof your allies and the support of your nobles. You have a good start. Don’t let me stop you.” And she turned and left in frustration.
The great hall was loud with celebration when she entered. Norah moved gracefully through the bowing nobleman to the table where Mikael sat. He stood when he saw her, and she took her place beside him. Unlike in the dining hall, the table sat longways, facing the festivities, with chairs lined on only one side and Mikael and Norah at the center. She was glad for it—to be beside him, to be able to touch him.
He cast her an unsettled look, seemingly wanting to break the icy wall between them, but the doors swung open before they had a chance to speak.
An overly extravagant procession swept through the great hall, and in its center—Gregor, king of Japheth.
“I thought he’d already presented himself to you,” Norah said quietly, unamused. Gregor had arrived earlier that morning.
Mikael sighed. “He did.”
“Then why the show?”
“To present himself to you, I’m sure. Appearances are not for friends.”
Not for friends.
The Japheth king was not as Norah had imagined. He was tall and thin, gaunt almost, with a fragile walk, albeit a cocky one. His cheekbones sat high and sharp, stretching the skin taut, and the bronze of his hair was speckled with gray. He had a prominent brow that shadowed his eyes, hollowing them. Norah thought back to the portraiture of Phillip she had seen. The only thing he seemed to have in common with his brother was the mustache. And Gregor looked much more than fourteen years Phillip’s senior.
“Salar,” he greeted Mikael, with no nod and no bow. Kings did not bow to kings, although they generally gave a dip of their head in greeting—a sign of respect. But there was no respect here, and anger rippled through her. She tempered it, though. If she felt the flame of anger, Mikael certainly had, and while she didn’t like this Japheth king, bloodshed was not the answer. Not yet.
Gregor’s eyes fell on Norah. “North Queen,” he said in a gravelly voice. He didn’t hold the Japheth accent, being from Aleon.
“King Gregor,” Norah said. “Welcome to Kharav.”
He gave a forced smile, clearly not liking a welcome to Kharav from the Mercian queen.
“King Gregor.” Mikael’s voice echoed through the hall, stiff and forced as well. “Tonight we celebrate, to welcome Japheth, our friend and ally. Please,” he said, motioning to the chair to his right at the long dining table.
They all took their seats, with Gregor on the opposite side of Mikael from Norah, and music picked up in the air.
“How long will you keep me waiting on my proposal?” Gregor asked Mikael as he eyed the food placed in front of him. Norah lifted her chalice to her lips but willed her breathing quiet to listen.
“As I said, tonight we celebrate,” Mikael answered. “Tomorrow we’ll speak of trade.”
Gregor let out a small chuckle. “So, you don’t like my proposal.”Brazen persistence.
Norah couldn’t tell if the heat in the room was from her anger or Mikael’s. She placed a hand on his thigh under the table, settling them both.
Gregor leaned forward and looked past Mikael at her. “Tell me, North Queen. Now that you’re wed to Kharav, does Mercia consider herself friends of Japheth?”
The Japheth kingwasbold, and it bothered her even more. A few more moments and she might be asking for the sword to end Gregor herself. “I suppose we’ll see,” she said calmly, then took a bite of lamb from her plate.
“See what?” he pressed.
Norah took her time to chew and swallow her food before answering. He would wait for her. “If Japheth is worthy of our friendship.”
Gregor snorted. “You insult Salar and I both.”
“My husband’s ego is not so fragile,” she said sweetly. She met Gregor’s eyes and smiled when she saw his offense. Under her hand, she felt the faint vibration of a near chuckle from Mikael, and he seemed to relax. These restrictions he forced himself to in the name of an alliance with Japheth—they didn’t apply to her. “You should try the lamb,” she told Gregor. “It’s delicious.”
With the festivities over, Norah and Mikael bid their goodnights and took to their chamber.
Norah let out a liberating breath as Vitalia pulled the heavily adorned gown from her and helped her into her nightgown. “That man is insufferable,” she said to Mikael as she pulled down her hair.
