“I see Demodocus is performing his duties excellently as watchdog,” the king says to the dog’s back.
I stifle a smile. “Is that really what he’s for?”
“When he’s around, I’ve noticed those at court are less likely to approach me. When I bought him, he was meant to be a source of protection.”
“And instead you were stuck with a teddy bear,” I say with a fond look at the dog.
After a knock and the king’s call of “Enter,” servants bring in our supper. It would appear they’ve brought all four courses at once. A bowl of soup is set before me, and the smell of squash and cream wafts upward, making my mouth water. Next to it is placed a tray of fruits, neatly sliced, with a serving bowl of sweet yogurt for dipping. The main course is cured elk, cut in spiced strips and placed on a bed of greens.
And finally, a slice of chocolate cake for each of us is positioned in the center of the table, chocolate drizzle steaming along the sides.
The men in tights and wigs halt along the edges of the room.
“Leave us,” the king says. “We won’t need anything else.”
There’s something about watching him give orders that has my blood flowing faster in my veins. He has such power. Men are forced to obey him without a word of protest. They would do anything he commanded.
I want that power.
Seeing it up close has my resolve hardening.
When the door closes, I shift the plates and bowls in front of me, moving everything to the sides of the table until my path is clear to the chocolate cake. That, I bring forward, until it’s directly in front of me.
I don’t look at the king, but I get the sense that he’s watching me closely. As I take a bite, the soft cake practically melts in my mouth, and I know I made the right choice to start with it while it’s still warm.
When I can’t take the awkwardness any longer, I deign to look up. The king has his own slice of cake in front of him.
“How alike we are,” he says after licking a drop of drizzle from his lips.
“Because we both enjoy chocolate? You can’t get out much if you think that an uncommon trait.”
He takes a drink from one of the goblets that was brought in with the food. “I didn’t mean the chocolate. When I see something I want, I reach for it without hesitation.”
Perhaps if he were looking at me another way, I would think he also meant to convey that he wanted me. But his gaze isn’t heated. It is relaxed, and I am getting the distinct impression that he doesn’t get to do that often.
“What are you reaching for now?” I ask.
He takes only a moment to think. “The world,” he says simply. “I want to own all of it. For every city to bear my coat of arms and for every person throughout the continent to know my name and recognize my reign.”
I let myself imagine it for a moment. For the whole world to know my name and live under my rule. What better way to feel complete and whole and accomplished?
“And you?” he asks, cutting into thoughts of me standing on a tower, overlooking all that is mine. “What do you reach for?”
Perhaps I should think longer about my answer. I should be careful and calculated, but I say truthfully, “Acknowledgment.”
He tilts his head to the side.
“I am a second daughter. Practically ignored. Never invited to parties or balls. Never thought of or really seen. I long to truly live. To be a part of everything.” No longer kept hidden away while Chrysantha experiences it all. I never wanted to wait my turn.
“I see you,” the king says, and the shadows around him heighten ever so slightly, as if they, too, are acknowledging me. “Tell me, Lady Stathos, what would you do with the acknowledgment you so desire if it was suddenly given to you?”
“How do you mean?”
“It can’t be just the attention you’re after, can it? That would be very petty, and you do not strike me as the petty type. So tell me—this acknowledgment. Why do you want it?”
I take a slow sip of wine while I think through my answer, wondering what he expects me to say. In the end, I opt for the truth again.
“I want friends. I want to be a bigger part of the world around me. If I’m seen and respected, others will value my opinion. I want the power to change things.”
“Change? Such as changing a law that prevents younger daughters from entering society until the eldest is engaged?”
“Exactly,” I answer.
“I think we might have some common goals, Lady Stathos.”
I remember my earlier conversation with Rhoda and the realization that the king is looking for a murderer among those at court. That, coupled with all the questions he’s presented me with tonight, prompts my outburst.
“Why am I here?” I ask.
The king interlaces his fingers in front of him and leans his chin over the top. “I have a council breathing down my neck. I am nineteen. A young king, they say, and until I am twenty-one, I have to go to them for permission for everything I do and heed their counsel in all things. What they want most is for me to find a wife and ensure that, should anything happen to me, an heir is already taken care of.”
I don’t breathe as he says the next bit.
“I have no intention of taking a wife or making heirs. I have an empire to build and traitors to root out of my very court. What I need is for the council to stop hounding me, and if I were to have the appearance of courting someone, they would do just that.
“You are here, Lady Stathos, because I’m looking for a friend. Someone who isn’t seeking to be a queen, as you are not. Someone who isn’t afraid to tell me what they are thinking, no matter if they think I will dislike it. And our friendship will also have the benefit of appeasing the council.
“You are beautiful,” he continues. “But not so beautiful as to tempt me. You are everything I am looking for. You are perfect.”
I don’t have words. So as not to have my jaw hanging down to the table, I put another bite of cake on my tongue.
You are perfect, he’d said. Right after not so beautiful as to tempt me.
I want to slap him. I want to kiss him. I want to throw the rest of my cake in his face as much as I want to finish off the delicious dessert.
I take another bite. I have too many thoughts swarming my mind, but I can grasp one thing.
“You would use me,” I say. Flat. Deadpan.
He sets his fork back onto the plate beside his cake. “I’m not looking to use you. I’m offering you a trade. Remain here at court. Allow everyone to draw their own conclusions about the two of us. And in return, everyone in this castle will know your name. You won’t miss another party or ball ever again. Every invitation will be given to you, so many that you couldn’t possibly accept them all.”
“What makes you think I don’t want to be queen?” I ask.
“If you had, you would have gotten in line with the rest of the girls. You wouldn’t try to insult me every chance you get.”
Good. He doesn’t see through my charade.
I stare at the goblet on the table. After leaving him to squirm in his chair for a while longer, I say, “You will have to make up for the incredibly rude comment you just made if you expect us to become friends.”
“Rude?”