Humiliated beyond measure-a cushion on the floor would never have sabotaged her like that-she tried to draw attention from her flaming face by plunking her feet on the table. "So, General, are you going to invite me to play?"
He scorched her with his wicked smile. "If you've got the mycek, why not?"
Lynx resisted the urge to kick him. Norin was not overly supplied with paper money. They used ostrich feathers and hides to barter for what they needed, and he would know that. She tilted her chin up to reply just as Mother Saskia reached the table. Lynx braced herself for pain. She started to pull her skirt down when Axel surprised her by frowning at the priestess.
The priestess hesitated, her eyes locked on Lynx's thighs. "But, my lord-"
"Go back to your prayers," Axel commanded, waving dismissively at her. "Colonel Zarot and I happen to enjoy looking at the princess's legs."
Scowling, the she-witch retreated to her post at the Dragon's feet.
He turned to the colonel. "Don't we, Stefan?"
"It's certainly not something we see every day."
Lynx writhed as the colonel's impassive face twitched with a grin. All she wanted was to slink away and never return, but she had as much right to be here as they had.
Flaunting her legs was a totally alien experience, but she couldn't let these Chenayan scum know how much their mocking laughter rattled her. Now was not the time to be coy. She took a deep breath and stared at Avanov.
"In that case, General, the view of my legs buys me into the game." Willing her hands to stop shaking, she picked up the three dice. "Bet what you think the view of them is worth."
Dice was the only game of chance she had ever had any luck with, so as long as these weren't loaded, she was confident she could win.
Avanov grunted. Or maybe it was a laugh. Then, his hand slipped into a pocket of his black breeches and pulled out a wad of notes. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he tossed a pair of thousand mycek bills onto the table.
Lynx tried, and failed, to stop her eyes from widening. That was more money than she would have seen in her whole life if she'd stayed in Norin.
The colonel must have agreed it was an outrageous amount because he was a tad slow in matching Axel's bet.
Sudden, unexpected sympathy for the man flashed through Lynx. The Avanovs were the richest family in the empire, and two thousand mycek would probably be pocket change for the general. For the rest of the population-and, more specifically, the Norin tribe-it was life-changing money. Playing for that kind of cash called for some nervous hair twirling, but when her fingers reached for her favorite lock, she remembered the priestess had chopped it off.
Dice clenched at a fresh burst of anger, she called, "A six, a one, and a four."
She didn't get to roll the dice. The screeching of the train's brakes told her they had reached the control point at Final Gate.
Avanov swept up his two notes, leaving the rest of the money on the table. "Sorry, Princess," he said, "but duty calls."
Both he and the colonel walked to a door at the opposite end of the compartment from where Lynx had entered.
Lynx's face flamed; Avanov must have known they were seconds away from the checkpoint when he made his outrageous bid. Clearly, he had no intention of risking that much money for a view of her legs.
Why it mattered, she couldn't say.
Chapter 10
Axel slouched in his chair in the salon and smiled at Bear, King Thorn's brother and emissary in Cian. The man could not have looked less like his namesake if he tried. Tall, rangy, thin-lipped, and aquiline-faced, Bear would have been better named after some raptor. A bad-tempered one. But then, Axel figured, twenty years in Cian dealing with Mad Mott was enough to put anyone out of humor.
Still, the two princesses seemed pleased to see their uncle-Lynx particularly.
Wild Lynx sat on a small sofa next to Bear, her hand clasped in his. Kestrel perched on a second sofa next to Stefan. That completed their after-dinner drinks circle.
Given they were enemies joined by conquest and marriage, no one had much to offer in the way of conversation. Dinner had been stilted, too, with Bear the only one making any real effort. Now, even he seemed to have exhausted his supply of small talk.
The recent attack on the Norin camp probably wasn't helping, either. But there was nothing Axel could do about that. If the Norin weren't so bent on rebellion, it would not have been necessary.
So, Axel watched Lynx over the rim of his crystal goblet of chenna. Even though he preferred brunettes, he had to admit she was beautiful.
And bold. Very bold. As her antics with the machete attested.
He rubbed his bandaged thigh, marveling at how coolly she had jabbed him. It had caught him totally off guard. The women he knew didn't carry weapons other than, perhaps, a small dagger tucked in a bodice or pocket, and they certainly didn't attack members of the royal family.
It was refreshing.
Almost as enchanting as Lynx's legs, in fact.
Sadly, the knot in her dress had come undone, and the hideous pink froth now hid her assets. Perhaps I should invite her for another round of dice. He smirked. He'd have given a lot-okay, two thousand mycek-to see her face if she'd won their little bet. No doubt she'd have found a way to brazen her way through that, too.
Her courage did more than just thrill him; he could use information like that. Perhaps Lynx was just the bargaining chip he needed in his upcoming negotiations with his father and his uncle about solving the war in Treven. The question was, would she be tough enough to endure the inevitable fallout if he played her?
He had seven days on a boring train to find out.
Bear placed his drink on the table. "Princess Lynx, I had a seamstress run up a few items for you. Some dresses to ease you into the new style before you reach the palace. Once there, I'm sure you will have a better idea of what to order from the royal seamstress." Turning to Axel, he added, "Perhaps, my lord, you will arrange for one of your guardsmen to transfer the trunk to the princess's compartment?"
Lynx jumped in before Axel could reply. "Clothes? For me? Where did you get that idea?"
"And where are mine?" Kestrel demanded.
Bear picked up a knife and sawed off a chunk of cheese on a board in front of him.
"Uncle Bear?" Lynx demanded.
Bear cleared his throat. "Er . . . your mother may have mentioned something in her last letter." He gave Kestrel a thin smile. "She also said your wardrobe was complete." When Kestrel scowled, he added, "And you do look quite lovely in that gown, my dear."
Kestrel smoothed her skirt. "It is very fine silk, isn't it? Are the dresses you've brought for Lynx as pretty?"
Axel rolled his eyes, then noticed Lynx's hand dart to her hair, feeling for something. Probably her feathers and beads, cut off by that idiot Saskia.
For a raider, losing braids was probably the equivalent to ripping out his ruby. Painful in ways impossible to express. It intensified his dislike for the priestess. He glared over at her, kneeling below the Dragon.
Lynx's fingers drumming her armrest called his attention back to her. Clearly, she liked the idea of her new Chenayan wardrobe as little as he did.
They would both have to put up with it.
Still, that didn't mean Axel couldn't have some fun with Lynx. It was payback for the wound that burned on his thigh. "Of course, Lord Emissary. Pity, though. The princess promised to stake her legs on a game of dice. That was after she impaled me with her machete."
Axel suppressed a laugh as Bear's thin lips almost disappeared into his mouth along with his cheese. The emissary coughed, looking aghast at Lynx. She ignored him, focusing her attention on Axel.
The intensity of her glare was almost enough to make him squirm. He straightened in his chair and accepted her unspoken challenge. For the first time in his life, he was the first to break eye contact.
Axel cracked a smile. "You win that round, Princess. But two against nil is a challenge I now cannot ignore." He pulled the two thousand mycek out of his pocket and held them out to her.
Her face puckered at his offering, making it almost worth conceding defeat. Then a troubling thought struck-even if she was Lukan's betrothed, displaying every emotion without censure was not a recipe for a long life in Cian. Like her defiant machete wielding, it would be sad to see her candor go, but go it must if she were to survive the Avanov palace. Maybe if she stopped glaring at him, he might take the trouble to clue her in.
He waggled the money at her. "Take it. We're traveling on a military line, the most boring place to be if you aren't heading off to conquer someone."
Lynx's eyes flashed. Coming so soon after the attack on the camp, Axel regretted his comment. Not that he would ever tell her that.