“I trust your rooms are to your liking?” Samuel asked at breakfast the next night.
He sat at the head of a long oak table, a feast fit for a king spread out before him. I sat on the opposite end, pushing my eggs and fruit around on the plate without actually eating. Hawke stood guard at the dining hall’s entryway, Dagon and Ajax no doubt still memorizing the estate and grounds layout.
“Yes,” I said, forcing a bite into my mouth. “They’re lovely.” Heat sizzled along my skin and before I could stop myself, I continued. “Much nicer than my last accommodations in your company.” I kept my voice sugar-sweet and innocent, but Samuel’s eyes widened all the same. I flashed him a smile to appease him, but I felt a flicker of pride down the bond that was begging me to turn around and look at Hawke.
“Where did you keep her last time?” Hawke dared to ask from across the room.
Samuel grinned, shaking his head as he grabbed his goblet of wine and leaned back in his chair. “You never were one for manners, were you Hawke?”
“Manners aren’t a skill one needs to be an assassin.”
Samuel’s strong jaw clenched as the amused smile disappeared. “Not one for a hunter either, but here we are.” He motioned to the grand estate around us.
“Yes, fine quarters for a hunter,” Hawke said, his voice edged in sarcasm. “I’m sure you get plenty of training in while entertaining aristocrats and indulging your pompous uncle.”
“I’m trained well enough,” Samuel said, and my stomach dropped at the look in his eyes. For the first time, I saw his power. The power of an ancient vampire hunter with the ability to heal or poison anyone within eyesight. And Hawke was baiting him.
“I love the décor in my quarters,” I hurried to say, wanting to shift the focus off of Hawke and have it firmly on me. “All of Deveraux Hall, actually. It’s very French countryside.” It wasn’t a lie. The place was outfitted with elegant paintings, vintage furniture, and rich tapestries, all reminding me of France. “Did you enjoy France before you chose to go into stasis?”
“You have such a keen eye, Avianna,” he said, his power forgotten and a charming smile replacing the agitation Hawke had placed there. “I knew that about you the second we met. You’re perceptive and sharper than anyone gives you credit for.”
I grinned back at him, unsure if that was a backhanded compliment or just something he genuinely thought. I supposed it would be some time before I actually understood what my made my future husband tick.
My stomach churned with the thought, and I set down my fork.
“I do love France,” he continued, glancing around the elaborately decorated dining hall. “My uncle as well. We have many fond memories there, which is why he modeled this estate after what we were used to then.”
I nodded, taking deep breaths to get my shit together. I was raised to carry on pointless conversations with the hopes they’d lead to something advantageous. I was trained to sit still and look pretty, all while having the mental capacity to analyze everyone in the room for a threat or ally. I was a double-edged sword, but being here, so close to the betrothal ceremony, I felt sheathed. Suffocated even.
“Have you ever been to France, Hawke?” Samuel asked, and I tried not to clench my eyes shut as Samuel now baited him.
“I go wherever my king commands,” he said on autopilot.
“And has the good king ever commanded you to go to Europe?”
Hawke didn’t bother to answer him.
Samuel narrowed his gaze and pushed back from the table. “I know you’re only here for a week, but it wouldn’t kill you to engage in casual conversation.”
“I assure you, it would,” Hawke snapped, and I had to bite back a laugh. Poor Hawthorne. What if fate had dealt us this hand under different circumstances and he happily mated me? He’d hate the games of court and if something—God forbid—ever happened to my brother? That would make him king.
King Hawthorne.
He would be absolutely miserable leashed to my side.
My heart sank another degree. I don’t know why I’d never thought of it like that before. Maybe because we were never going to get that chance, anyway.
“You can find something else to do,” Samuel said, sauntering around the table, stopping at my side. “Avianna is perfectly safe with me.”
Hawke growled. “Your history begs to differ.”
“Those were extreme circumstances,” Samuel argued. “I had to choose between two shitty paths. I chose the one that brought Avianna the least harm. Where were you—”
I felt Hawke move behind me, felt his anger boiling down the bond, so I practically leaped out of my chair. “Samuel,” I said, slightly breathless. “I saw a beautiful river on the grounds when looking out my window last night.”