Rebel Spring A Falling Kingdoms(115)
“Nic!”
He left the courtyard without looking back.
• • •
• • •
“Another.” Nic signaled for the server. He’d lost count of how many drinks this would make. And he planned on many more before he’d pass out later on his hard cot in the servants’ quarters.
“She doesn’t love me,” he slurred, tossing back the glass of fiery liquid. “So be it. May both our unavoidable deaths be swift and painless here in the heart of our enemy’s lair.”
The tavern was called the Beast, because it looked like a great black creature crawling up out of the dirt. Also, because it was well known to give its patrons a beast of a headache the following morning. At the current moment, Nic really didn’t care.
“You look like you’ve had a rather bad day.” The voice was lightly edged with an exotic accent. “Does the drink help?”
Through his haze of alcohol Nic was surprised to see Prince Ashur of Kraeshia take a seat next to him. He knew the prince had chosen to remain in Auranos after the wedding, temporarily residing in the west wing of the castle. All palace guards had been ordered to keep a close watch on the handsome bachelor—orders that came from the king himself. Some of the guards whispered that the king saw the prince as a threat to his power. After all, Ashur’s father had conquered half the known world as easily as taking candy from a baby.
For a moment, Nic couldn’t find his voice.
“It’s a wine made from fermented rice, imported overseas from Terrea,” he finally replied. “And, no, it doesn’t help. Not yet, anyway. But give me time.”
“Server,” Prince Ashur called out. “Another fermented rice wine for my friend Nic, and for me.”
Nic eyed him curiously as the server delivered the two glasses moments later. “You know my name.”
“I do indeed.”
“How?”
“I’ve asked about you.” The prince tossed back the drink, his dark brows drawing together with a grimace. “Now that is deeply unpleasant.”
“What have you asked about me, might I . . . uh, ask?”
A lock of ebony hair had come loose from the tie at the nape of his neck and fallen across the prince’s forehead. He pushed it back. “I know you’re good friends with the princess. I saw you speaking with her earlier today in the courtyard—and it did not strike me as a conversation between a princess and a guard. Despite your guard’s uniform, I believe you to be one with both influence and knowledge in the palace.”
“Then you’d be wrong.” He glanced at the prince from the corner of his eye. Perhaps the king was right to worry about this prince. Nic wondered with an edge of worry what the prince might have overheard today. “Where are your bodyguards?”
Ashur shrugged. “Around, I suppose. I’m not an advocate of being swarmed.”
“You should know that the City of Gold is not without its dangers.”
The prince eyed him with amusement. “Duly noted.”
Nic’s gaze moved to the twin daggers the prince had sheathed to either side of his leather belt. Perhaps the prince could protect himself just fine without comment or concern.
Five . . . six . . . ten drinks, and Nic found he had few filters attached to his tongue that might keep him from speaking disrespectfully. “What do you want from me, your grace?”
The amused expression remained on the prince’s handsome face. “To talk.”
“About what?”
Ashur swirled the next drink in his glass. “About Princess Cleo’s amethyst ring.”
Nic went very still. Until today he’d never given a thought to Cleo’s ring. “The princess has a lot of jewelry. I don’t keep track of it.”
“I think you know the one I’m talking about. After all, you’re her closest confidant.” He raised an eyebrow. “Although, perhaps not as close as you’d like to be.”
The prince looked at Nic as if he knew more than he possibly could. It was unsettling. Again, he wondered how much of the conversation with Cleo this man could have heard, unseen by either of them. Or was he only guessing?
Nic shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “The princess is not a subject I wish to discuss.”
Ashur smiled gently. “Unrequited love is a painful thing, isn’t it?”
Something in Nic’s chest twisted. He didn’t like how this prince seemed to know him so well, seemed to look inside his soul so deeply. “The worst.”
“Tell me what you know about the Kindred.” Ashur leaned his chin on his fist as he studied Nic. “I believe it’s real. Do you?”