Oh shit.
“Lovely to meet you too, my Winter Princess.” She kept purring then her eyes dropped to my cleavage and her look at mine was way different than the way I looked at hers.
Oh shit.
Okay, I had to be polite, have a short conversation, not say anything stupid and then get the fuck out of there.
God, I hoped this song didn’t last very long so my eager dance partner would show up and quick.
“Are you enjoying the Gales?” I asked and watched her lip slightly curl up as her eyes moved from my chest to my face.
“I spend as much time as possible in Fleuridia,” she informed me, “where they understand the exacting standards of elegance and panache so…” she hesitated then concluded scornfully, “no.”
I decided not to reply mostly because she was being rude and I was a princess so I didn’t think returning her rudeness, which was what I wanted to do, would be appropriate.
“However, seeing as my dear cousin Frey has bound himself to our lovely princess, I couldn’t stay away.” She leaned slightly into me and informed me, “Rumors of your beauty run wide, Princess Sjofn, even down in Fleuridia they speak of it.”
“That’s nice,” I muttered, leaning slightly back to make a point, she caught it and moved away.
“Though, her interest in swordplay and the hunt and penchant for wearing breeches is also spoken of quite widely.” Her eyes swept me slowly before she concluded, “I see Frey put an end to that.”
“Not exactly,” I looked away, “although I will say he’s introduced me to more enjoyable pastimes.”
I looked back at her when she laughed with obvious delight, the sound beautiful, even enthralling, and strangely terrifying.
Then she murmured, looking under her lashes at me, “She enjoys connubial bliss.”
I studied her and knew without any doubt she was playing with me.
And that was when I decided that being a princess sometimes could be set aside. Especially with people I knew my husband did not care for (in the slightest) and I doubted my parents did either.
So I stated, “Actually, what she enjoys is keeping private matters private.”
“You brought it up,” she informed me smoothly.
“Actually, no, you read into what I said,” I returned.
“Was my reading wrong?” she asked.
No, it wasn’t. What she was wrong about was continuing to talk about it when I asked her not to do so. And after what Valeria and Eirik had treated Frey and I to I’d suddenly had enough of the Drakkars.
So I turned to her and said, “If you’re curious about your cousin, which would be repulsive but…” I hesitated, “to each their own, then yes, I greatly enjoy connubial bliss, frequently and vigorously.”
I knew my mistake at falling to her level when she smiled with sheer pleasure.
Damn, I’d given her exactly what she wanted.
Then she turned her head, her eyes moving as if she was looking for something, she found it and tipped up her chin.
“Champagne,” she muttered, her eyes still aimed elsewhere, I looked where they were aimed and my stomach clutched when I saw Viola nodding her head then moving swiftly toward us with a tray holding two champagne glasses. “We’ll toast your marriage,” Franka suggested.
I did not want to toast my marriage with Franka Drakkar and I did not want to be confronted with Viola, who had not, since that first night, attended our table. What she did, I didn’t know. I didn’t let her go because it wasn’t her fault Frey had enjoyed her. Unlike me (in both worlds), she had to earn a living. But I did have a quiet word with Jocelyn, who had one with the housekeeper, and I saw Viola no more.
Until now.
I tried not to look at her as she approached then I couldn’t tear my eyes away for she was aiming a look of pure venom at me, hatred clear and openly read in her eyes.
That was when I decided, perhaps upon my return, I would have a word myself with the housekeeper to see about Viola moving on to other employment or perhaps being reassigned to do the laundry.
She bobbed a curtsy and held up the tray.
I wanted champagne and that was the only reason I took a glass after Franka took hers and without a backward glance, Viola expertly and swiftly melted into the crowd.
“To marriage,” Franka lifted her glass and, eyes on me over the rim, she took a sip.
I wanted a sip, actually, I wanted to down the whole glass but instead I studied her and didn’t take one.
Then I asked straight out, “Tell me, Franka, are you genuinely pleased your cousin has found someone who makes him happy or are you just having some fun?”
She tipped her head to the side and asked back, “Has my handsome cousin found someone who makes him happy?”