Page 224 of Sword & Shadow
The woman’s hearty laugh filled the room. “I am no man’s wife,” she said, then raised her brow. “I’m the king’s mistress.”
Caught off guard, Evylin didn’t have a response to that. She had read about kept women in a few novels, but as she’d never met one, she almost doubted their existence.
“So,” Ethenn said, fork lowering to his plate, “we’re your gift to the king?”
“No, no.” Renaul brushed the idea away. “King Rouland has no interest in you. It’sPrinceRouland I’m gifting you to.”
Thom screwed up his face in confusion. “You’re trying to earn his favor?”
Renaul gave Highlady Freye a bewildered look. “They don’t understand at all, do they?” She reached out to pat Thom’s hand. “My dear, I’m giving you to Rouland as a token of my affection. I do not need to earn his favor. I’m already his lover.”
Evylin felt her lips part in shock and revulsion. Deckard’s fork scraped his plate, Ethenn choked on his wine, and Thom gaped.
“Hold on,” Rafferty said, a wily smirk gliding over his face. “You’re boffing both the king and his son?”
“Rafferty,” Deckard hissed, but Renaul laughed uproariously.
“Mostly his son, these days,” she confirmed. “The king, being in his eighties, is not as virile as he once was, but he does visit every few months.”
The Ephrians fell silent, unsure how to respond to such information. With an aunt like Serene Loore, Evylin had heard much sordid gossip about the behavior of the royals and nobility. But she’d always thought it overdramatized for effect. This sort of unabashed debauchery caused her skin to crawl.
Deckard let out a heavy sigh, at an apparent loss for words.
“Does my lifestyle displease your sensibilities, Colonel?” Renaul asked with an amused smirk.
“I believe my shock is perfectly evident,” Deckard replied sharply.
Renaul hummed with marked disdain. “I’d heard that Ephrians were prudish, but with a wife like yours, I’d imagined you would be a bit more open-minded.”
Deckard glared at her. “I’d ask you not to insult my wife by suggesting she’s anything like you.”
As Renaul lounged in her chair with a haughty smile, Evylin slipped her fingers to Deckard’s wrist. He’d advised her of caution. It was the least she could do to return the favor.
Her gentle touch brought his eyes to hers. Then he turned his hand, intertwining their fingers together.
“While you may be correct at the present,” Renaul said, ignoring their affection, “I’m afraid you won’t be for much longer.”
“And why is that?” Deckard demanded.
“Because tomorrow, you will be dead, and your wife will be free.”
Fear gripped Evylin around the throat. Was it to be just as she’d feared? Just as she’d chosen to let herself love Deckard, he was to be taken from her? She hadn’t even had the chance to tell him yet. A crushing wave of emotion threatened to pull her under, drowning her in the expectation of her sorrow.
“You said this was our last dinner,” Thom said.
“It is,” Renaul said. “You, your brother, and your friends: It’s your last dinner. The lovely Mrs. Deckard, however...”
Cold dread slid over Evylin, wrapping around her veins. She knew exactly what Renaul was about to say.
“You see,” the noblewoman’s eyes glimmered with vile glee, “Rouland was quite taken with our beautiful Warrior. And he intends to have her for himself.”
Deckard’s fingers tightened on Evylin’s.
“No, your death would be a waste, dear,” Renaul said to her. “And Rouland is never wasteful. He is married to my niece, of course, so you won’t have the honor of being his wife. But I hear magical Bonds create a far more powerful connection anyway.”
Trembling with repulsion and fear, Evylin scowled at the woman. “I would rather die,” she said.
Renaul gave her a truly bemused look. “Nonsense. If you’re worried, he’s a wonderful lover. Gentle and attentive, in fact. Much better than his father, though not quite as enthusiastic.”
