Richelle Mead - Iron Crowned

In public, gentry etiquette dominated, and Edria was the picture of politeness. “Your Majesty, it is an honor.”

“Thank you,” I said, settling next to Dorian on a very cozy and ornate love seat. It squeezed us together, something I knew he didn’t mind as his eyes continued to rake over my body. Our legs were so near each other’s that I made the concession of letting mine drape slightly over his. Our seat was pulled up close to the table, so the long, heavy tablecloth hid this boldness on my part—as well as the hand he rested on my thigh.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Your Majesty,” said Ysabel demurely. With the way her breasts practically spilled out of her dress, I wondered how I could have felt self-conscious about my tight bodice. “I thought you were busy managing your land and your … human matters.”

“It’s not surprising at all,” remarked Rurik, just before reaching for a giant drumstick. He took a huge, savage bite, but waited until he swallowed before continuing with the next remark. It was an improvement on past manners. “She and my lord can hardly stay away from each other.” I smiled at the use of “my lord.” Even after Dorian had sent Rurik to serve me, the soldier still thought of Dorian as his master.

“Of course,” said Edria, rushing in when Ysabel’s expression turned frosty. “It’s just, from what we’ve heard, you aren’t interested in these types of functions. Indeed, I hadn’t expected to meet you in such … lovely attire.”

“Very lovely,” said Dorian. He’d dragged his eyes from me at last and gestured for a refill on his wine.

I didn’t necessarily like having my appearance discussed—even if the discussion was positive—but praising me gave me a boost in status. “I’m surprised you were surprised,” said Rurik, this time speaking with his mouth full. Well, we could only expect so much progress. “Everyone’s heard how beautiful my lady is. Men far and wide want her, but of course, she would only accept the best for her consort. As would my lord.”

From Rurik, this was almost charming, but not to the mother and daughter duo. “My understanding,” said Edria delicately, “is that more than your, eh, looks add to your appeal. You and your lady sister are both valued for your future children. I can already see she has a number of suitors.”

I glanced across the room at Jasmine, sitting by Shaya. Jasmine had a genuine smile on her face, but whether it was from being out and about or because of the men who had gathered and seemed to be paying her compliments, I couldn’t say. I forced away a frown.

“My sister and I have no intention of having children,” I said, turning back to my companions.

“How unfortunate,” said Edria. Her eyes darted ever so slightly toward Dorian. “How unfortunate for everyone.”

“Your Majesty,” said Ysabel, “have you met my children?”

I flinched in surprise. I’d forgotten she had kids. Mother and daughter might insinuate that the prophecy was half of my attractiveness, but I knew that Ysabel, after losing her husband, had come to Dorian’s court seeking a powerful man through the use of both her beauty and her fertility.

I followed her gaze toward a small table by the fireplace. Most of its occupants were young. It was like a kids’ table at Thanksgiving. I hadn’t seen many gentry children and could make a good guess at Ysabel’s progeny based on their red hair. She confirmed as much.

“That’s my daughter, Ansonia.” In human years, I would have pegged Ansonia to be about ten or eleven. Her brilliant hair was piled in braids on her head, and she was giggling at a puppy that kept nudging her feet, undoubtedly seeking handouts. “Beside her is my son, Pagiel.”

He was a serious-looking young man, contrasting sharply with his laughing sister. Relatively speaking, he looked a little older than Jasmine. His red hair was darker than Ansonia’s, more like Ysabel’s, and his blue-gray eyes regarded the puppy’s antics critically, as though deciding if he approved. At last, a tiny smile appeared on his face, transforming him and making a couple of nearby girls his age sigh adoringly.

Ysabel had clearly pointed her children out as a slam against me, yet I caught sincere affection in her eyes as she regarded the two. I’d always thought her coming to court to push herself off on some guy was bordering on prostitution, but there was more to the story. Her husband had died, leaving her family in financial trouble. It made her actions more understandable, though I still thought she was a bitch.

“Children are such a joy,” said Edria, looking at Dorian again.

I looked at him too as he gazed at Ansonia and Pagiel. Long study had taught me that his eyes held the secrets to his true feelings whenever he wore that lazy, mysterious expression of his. And now, hidden in those green depths, I could see the glint of admiration and longing. A strange feeling welled up in my stomach, and for the first time, I could honestly believe Dorian wanted kids with me just for the sake of parenthood and no other agenda. I felt unexpected guilt over this.

As though reading my thoughts, he turned his attention on me. His smile warmed me, and whatever wistfulness his eyes had betrayed was replaced now with love—love quickly mingling with lust as he took in my appearance again. In fact, his desire seemed even stronger than it had been when I first entered, and I suddenly wondered if he’d make a serious attempt at exhibitionism after all. But no, with a deep breath that seemed to summon his control, he respectfully looked back at his guests.

Yet, under the table, I felt the hand on my thigh tighten, his fingers sliding over the smooth silk of the dress. Chills ran over my flesh, but I also politely kept my attention on the others.

“It was amazing how easily Ysabel conceived her children,” Edria continued. “If poor Mareth had lived, I have no doubt they’d have a dozen by now.”

I considered pointing out that if Ysabel was so fertile, then she would have surely gotten pregnant when she and Dorian were lovers. It seemed in bad taste to me, so I said nothing. Such topics weren’t out of line for gentry, however, and Rurik again jumped in to defend my honor and point out exactly what I’d been thinking.

“But you’ve been with others since then,” he said. “And you haven’t had any more children.”

Dorian’s hand began skillfully gathering the fabric of my dress’s skirt so that it rose up my leg, soon bunching up and exposing my thigh altogether so that his fingers now touched bare skin. I had a feeling he wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation anymore, despite a very convincing look of interest as he kept his eyes on everyone except me.

Ysabel glared at Rurik. “I haven’t had that many lovers.” Promiscuity wasn’t an insult among gentry, but in this case, playing down her sex life was intended to explain why she had no other children.

Meanwhile, Dorian’s hand had moved to my inner thigh, slowly and carefully moving up so that he betrayed nothing to the others. When he reached my underwear, his fingers stopped, as though pondering this obstacle. I’d picked something thin and lacy, mostly to be alluring for later bedroom activities, but it apparently proved convenient now. He gripped the edges, braced a moment, and then jerked so hard that the fabric ripped. In the noisy room, no one heard, and I just barely swallowed a gasp. I gave him a small glare that he either ignored or didn’t see. I suspected the former.

“Sometimes the gods simply wait for the right opportunity—or rather, the right man.” Edria’s eyes darted to Dorian who smiled at her winningly. His chin rested in the hand not under the table, his elbow propped up. “Clearly, Mareth was the right union then, and I’m sure the gods will smile approvingly on Ysabel’s next husband.” Her tone and look left no question about who that would be.