“Oh shit,” I gasped, realizing I’d messed up. “I didn’t get Varic anything.”
Nerilla squinted at me. “You’re the consort,” she told me. “You don’t get him a gift; he gets them for you.”
But that made no sense.
“Jason,” Eris called out from the ground floor.
Walking to the railing, I looked down at her.
“The king has sent a runner and requests your presence in the stateroom.”
I turned to Nerilla and then looked back at Eris. “And the princess?”
“She has not been summoned,” she told me.
Glancing back at Nerilla, I saw her scowl. “What?”
“That’s just odd that he wouldn’t want me too,” she answered. “With your permission, I’ll remain here so you can explain everything to me when you return.”
“Of course,” I said, kissing her cheek. There was a lot to look at in Varic’s mini museum, lots of old books as well as his own journals that I was guessing she wanted to flip through to look for discussions of Cassius. “I hope you won’t be bored.”
“Even though Varic and I visit whenever he’s a court, I don’t normally come here. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in his private sanctum. It’s a rare treat.”
“Good,” I told her before I started down the stairs.
Back in the living room, or what I thought of as such, I went to the kitchen, got my jacket off a barstool, and put it on, and then started for the open door.
“The polite thing is to ask if your champion is ready,” Zev groused, falling into step beside me.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, grinning at him. “I have to get used to thinking about having anyone else along with me.”
He grunted, but I noticed that the chain I’d put on him was turned so that the lock, which now looked like a curved rectangle of diamonds, was at the front. Easy to see that he was enjoying having such a stunning piece of jewelry around his neck.
Eris and Brenna accompanied us toward the stateroom, and the banter that Zev kept up while we walked, the flirting, had both women in stitches. Whether or not they were charmed, or thought he was an idiot, was hard to tell. It might have been a little of both.
Right before the last set of stairs, before we would have descended to the first floor, Anar stepped from one of the halls to the left.
Zev moved fast, putting a hand out to get me to stop walking.
“It’s okay,” I told him, still moving.
“I don’t ––”
“You know him,” Eris announced to my champion. “He’s one of the queen’s courtiers.”
“Ah yes,” he said, moving his hand, staying right beside me.
“Hey,” I greeted him, rushing over to offer him my hand.
He bowed deeply and then lifted, taking my hand in both of his. “A pleasure to see you again, my consort.”
“And you,” I said, smiling at him.
He sighed like he was tired, reluctantly letting my hand go. “I regret to inform you that the briefing was moved to one of the smaller staterooms, as there was a previously scheduled meeting to go over the financials with the courtesans in the main one.” He coughed, clearly uncomfortable. “They need a large room.”
I knew they did. There were a lot of them.
“The queen prefers not to…” He trailed off, and I could tell from the pained expression on his face and the tightening of his jaw that speaking of his queen and the king’s courtesans together was far from his favorite thing. “Be in attendance with the courtesans.”
“Of course,” I said quickly, not interested in talking about it either.
“But,” he said, brightening, “they are all in the smaller room at the end of the long hall on the right.”
“All?”
“The king, the queen, the prince, the council, Gideon, Tiago, Hadrian, as well as other members of the nobility.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, sprinting forward with Zev beside me.
“Is the princess not with you?” Anar asked Eris, glancing around, seemingly for Nerilla.
“The runner only asked for Jason.”
Anar groaned. “The king needs the entire royal family, which is why Andreas and Marcellus are—he will be angry and––”
“I’ll call Oz and he’ll let her know her presence is requested immediately,” Eris told him, nicer to Anar than she’d been back in New Orleans. But like me, she could see he seemed a bit flustered and overwhelmed.
“Excellent,” Anar said quickly, forcing a smile for her. “Please have Jarah bring her here, and you join the other guards in the vestibule to the left. Zev, you may wait here for Jarah and take him with you to the inner gallery on the right where the other hendrs are.”
“No,” Zev said flatly. “I’m going in with Jason.”
Anar shot him a look. “Are you mad? Already you try the king’s patience with your rumblings about Gideon, and you would do more to annoy him?”
Zev crossed his arms and I faced Anar, neither of us speaking or moving.
“My consort?”
I took a breath. “I certainly don’t think the king would begrudge me my champion when things have been less than safe for me within his walls,” I said flatly.
“Less than safe could be the understatement of the year,” Zev said sarcastically, glaring at Anar. “You’re insane if you think I’d leave his side.”
His smile was indulgent. “I mentioned to the others that this would be your stance,” he said, almost resigned. “They didn’t believe me. There’s a small victory in being right.”
“Well, hopefully you’ll enjoy rubbing it in their faces,” Zev offered with a smirk. “But until I see Jason safely to the prince’s side—I’m his shadow.”
Anar couldn’t fault his logic, or mine. He was there because someone was trying to kill me, after all.
“Far be it from me to argue with either of you,” he snapped, clearly exasperated, gesturing to his left.
Walking together down the long hall. After we made a second left, Zev stopped me suddenly with a hand on my bicep.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, turning, not worried—we were alone in the hall—but unsure about what was going on with him.
“Something is off—” He took a deep breath. “I think this is where the panic rooms are for the concubines in case of… attack,” he finished, and put his hand on the wall. “If memory serves, this is stamped plaster over steel.”
“What?”
He shook his head and stepped in close to me, leaning so he could whisper in my ear. “Turn and walk back, but stay right with me.”
Doing precisely as he directed, I executed a perfect about-face and walked at his heels back toward the entrance.
When the doors opened in the hall, one in front of us and one behind, Zev grunted, sounding almost disappointed, and I had a moment to be amazed at how quickly he’d read the trap. It was impressive, as was the speed of him drawing his blade as two vampyrs rushed us from both sides.
He shoved me behind him, pressing me back against the wall, and the guy who almost reached me on the right lost his arm in a gush of blood seconds after lifting it to strike me. I wanted to help, especially as I heard yells and saw more men were running toward us to join the fight, but getting in Zev’s way was stupid. When the wall gave way behind me, I fell back, and even though Zev spun, yelling my name, the panel closed too fast. He had no choice but to recoil or lose his arm.