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Chapter 23

Ryker

It had taken far toolong to get through the packed courtyard and into the palace. By the time I arrived at the inner area, where only those personally invited were allowed to gather, I was ready for a drink or to punch Ivan in his too-smug face.

He couldn't wait the customary three months after burying his brother to crown himself. I was going to have to sit here for the next week or so and watch that pompous asshole parade himself around.

Within the palace, the families of those invited totaled over three hundred or so, but I suspected that not everyone had arrived yet. The aristocrats and landowners milled about the palace's inner bailey, greeting each other with false cheer and air-kissing each other's cheeks.

I spotted my father with the Earl of Calwick and his daughter. The earl's blond hair was so pale in the sun that it made him appear bald.

My father had yet to reveal to me that he planned to try to overthrow Ivan. If I didn't know him better, I might question if I'd been wrong about his intentions, but I did know him.

It was only a matter of time before he broached the subject of him becoming king with me. As far as I was concerned, he and Ivan could both fuck off.

I hoped they killed each other, but my father would be determined to stick me in the middle of it. And I would be as determined to avoid that happening.

Preferring not to deal with my father, I stayed where I was instead of going to greet him. We'd come here separately, him in his fancy new carriage on the main road and me on my horse through the forest.

The possibility of thieves didn't scare me. Instead, I welcomed the idea of being robbed again. This time, they wouldn't succeed.

I claimed a glass of champagne from a passing server's tray and downed it in one swallow. When I finished, I switched out the empty glass for a full one. Dressed all in gray, the servers were easily distinguishable from the men's formal wear and colorful dresses filling the room.

Because I'd ridden here, I wore black pants like most of the men, but I'd left my long coat with my luggage. It had arrived with my father's carriage, and I was sure the servants had already taken it to the chambers I would occupy while here.

My silver vest was similar to the other men's in the room, but my lack of a coat stood out, and I didn't care. When my father looked my way and scowled, I smiled as I lifted my glass to him; he did care.

Turning away, I blended in with the crowd. I didn't stop to talk with anyone, but I did greet the familiar faces I saw as I walked.

"Ryker!" Samael's hand fell on my shoulder.

When my jaw locked and my gaze slid to the hand, Samael laughed as he pulled it away. I could pretend to still be friends, but I hadn't allowed him to touch me.

"Samael."

Samael smiled at me and glanced around the room while sipping his drink. Like many others, he wore black pants, a gold vest, and a black long coat tailored to perfection. He was flaunting much more wealth than before I went to war.

"What a celebration this is going to be. Our realm needs it after everything it's endured," Samael said.

And some of us endured far more than others,but I kept those words back. Samael wasn't the only one who hadn't gone to war against the ghouls.

"The women are looking… lovely," Samael murmured.

I barely noticed them as my gaze flitted over the flamboyant dresses. There was so much color in the room that it was distracting and blinding.

"How are you adjusting to being home?"

Samael's abrupt change in topic threw me off for a second. "It's nice to have a soft bed again."

Truth be told, I didn't care about a soft bed. But there was little I cared about since my time in the ophidians' dungeon and the loss of my king.

Samael smirked. "I bet the best part is having women to fill it with."

I didn't respond.

"And speaking of women, there's the fool who almost lost her hand."

I followed Samael's gaze to Ellery as she moved through the crowd. Unlike many other women here, she didn't stop to talk. Instead, her head swiveled as she searched the crowd.

Then, her gaze found mine. Across the twenty feet separating us, the sun caught and lit her cyan eyes. She'd pulled her mocha-colored hair into a braid that twisted around her head to emphasize her beautiful face with its smattering of freckles.

Her navy dress wasn't nearly as bright as most of the dresses surrounding her, but it emphasized her hourglass figure and narrow waist. The dress's halter top accentuated the swell of her full breasts and revealed her sculpted, bare arms.

Her jaw locked, and her chin lifted a little while we stared at each other, but when her gaze shifted to Samael, her lips compressed, and she turned away. With deft steps, she blended back into the crowd.

"She's stupid, but I'd fuck her," Samael said. "It would be fun to make her pay for her disobedience."

My fingers clenched around the bottom of my glass as I shot Samael an irritated look. It would be more fun to make him pay for being such an asshole, and I'd happily do so by beating the leering look off his face.

I switched my empty glass for a full one from a passing servant as Samael turned to speak with a pretty woman. For a few seconds, I stared after Ellery, but a couple of amsirah aristocrats diverted my attention.

Sipping my drink, I compelled myself to engage in the polite conversation necessary to survive these things. I'd rather have been back in a war against the ghouls.

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