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Virgin Bride(185)

By:B. B. Hamel


When Trip was finished speaking, he nodded to the crowd and then left the room. I watched him go, curious, but everyone else went back to their conversations. Servants appeared from the sides of the room with food, and dinner began.

But Trip was still gone. I did my best to try to enjoy the meal, but Trip had left without so much as even looking at me or acknowledging me. I was tempted to text him, but I realized that would come off pretty bad. I was sure he was just playing the politics game and couldn’t break character to come talk to me. I was sure it was meaningless.

The meal was lovely and rich, all traditional Starklandian food. Conversations drifted around us, including at our own table, but it was all in Starklandian, except for Lucy’s prattling, of course. Dad, for his part, noticed that I wasn’t in the mood to chat, so he didn’t force me.

After the first course, people began to mill about the room again. I half turned in my chair when a man came toward me, a sleazy man with a creepy smile.

“Bryce Koch?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes?”

“Hello, dear. My name is Nicolai Corvin. The king speaks very highly of you.”

I put on a smile, despite how uncomfortable he made me. I’d never seen this man before and couldn’t remember his name, but if he was at this dinner, he was important. I couldn’t be rude and risk messing things up for Trip. Besides, this was the first person to actually seek me out all night.

“That’s flattering,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you, Nicolai.”

We shook hands. His grip was weak, and he held my fingers for far too long before dropping them.

“How do you find our country, dear?” he asked.

“It’s lovely,” I answered.

“What have you seen?” His English was surprisingly good, with a very small accent.

“Stehen,” I said. “Plus this estate, and whatever you can see from the window on the drive here.”

He laughed. “So nothing then.”

“Stehen is a beautiful city,” I said.

“True,” he conceded. “It is beautiful. But I’m the agricultural minister, and it’s my duty to inform you that the farmland in Starkland is lovelier still.”

“Well, I’ll have to see it someday then.”

“Soon,” Nicolai said, smiling big. “Very soon.”

“Good. I look forward to that.”

“I’m glad. Starkland can be a very unforgiving country, especially to foreigners.”

“I haven’t found that.”

“You’ve been protected by the king,” he said, laughing. “Nobody would dare offend the king’s mistress.”

That took me aback. I gaped at him before gathering myself. “I’m not his mistress,” I said.

He looked genuinely confused. “I’m sorry. Is this not the correct word?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“Translation error then, let us say. You’re the king’s friend, how about?”

“Yes. That’s true,” I said softly, my eyes narrowed.

This man wasn’t stupid and his English was great. He knew exactly what he had said.

“Good speaking with you, dear,” he said. I wanted to say something else, but he was already walking away.

I was completely blown away by that exchange. Was that how people in Starkland saw me, just as the King’s mistress? That was crazy.

Or was it? We were sleeping together, and we weren’t formally dating or something like that. Oh god, maybe I really was the King’s mistress. I glanced over at Dad, but he hadn’t heard a word. He was too busy tucking into his food with surprising gusto.

“I’m not feeling well,” I said to him.

He stopped for a second and glanced at me. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m going to head back to my room.”

He put his fork down. “I’ll walk with you.”

“No, no. Please, stay. Lucy would kill you if you left.”

He sighed. “Very good point.”

I smiled and stood. “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Feel better.”

I quickly turned and left the room. I felt some eyes follow me as I left, but I didn’t care.

They all already thought I was the king’s foreign whore. What did it matter if they saw me leaving the dinner early? I didn’t want to ruin things for Trip, but I also wasn’t going to sit there and be embarrassed for a second longer.

I should have seen this coming. I saw whispers of it in the media, but nothing in English, and the articles I got translated just came back as jumbled messes. I knew my name was in the papers, but I couldn’t tell why.

Now I knew. They were saying I was Trip’s mistress, and who knew what else. They were probably blaming me for the war and for all the attacks in the city.