and legs, hugging and shrieking in complete disregard of propriety. “I wasn’t expecting you,” Lydia finally said after their enthusiasm had settled, not mentioning that she’d feared Teriana had abandoned her for good.
“There’s a lot of that going around.” Teriana pulled off her boots, tossing them aside before crossing her legs, her toes glittering with a multitude of rings. Her countless waist-length braids with their wealth of ornaments clicked and rattled together as she moved, the sound as comforting as a song. “Your father keeps poor company tonight.”
Her father was supposed to be abed, not receiving guests. “Oh?”
“A young one who’s drunk on both righteous indignation and your father’s good wine. And the other…” A frown creased Teriana’s brow. “Older. Weak chin. Eyes like a pig. He seemed…” She trailed off and then gave a shrug. “Seemed not your father’s sort.”
Lydia scrunched up her face, unnerved. “The younger is my father’s nephew, Vibius.” Who was supposed to have departed with Ulpia.
“Mmm-hmm.” Teriana pulled a ring off Lydia’s finger, examining the gemstone. She was easily the prettiest girl Lydia had ever met with her rounded cheeks, arched eyebrows, and wide smile, her smooth black skin completely flawless. Half a head shorter than Lydia, Teriana was the perfect blend of muscle and curve, her long-fingered hands calloused from a lifetime of working on her mother’s ship. But it was Teriana’s eyes that captured the attention.
Like all Maarin, Teriana’s eyes appeared to be windows to the sea, the irises moving with waves and swells. And like the sea, they changed color with her temperament. Lydia had seen them shift from indigo to azure to emerald to graphite all in the space of a conversation.
Handing back the ring, Teriana asked, “Who was the other man?”
Lydia twisted the band around her finger. Once. Twice. Three times. “Lucius Cassius.”
Teriana lifted both dark eyebrows in surprise. The Maarin were well acquainted with the ins and outs of Cel politics, and Lucius’s reputation was far-reaching.
“Elections.” Lydia said the word as an explanation, though it wasn’t. Nothing explained why her father had that man in this house. “Let’s go out into the gardens. It’s cold in here.”
Taking Teriana by the hand, she led her friend out of the library and down the curving stairs, their bare feet making no noise on the tile. Except as she rounded the corner, Lydia found herself face-to-face with both her father and Vibius.
Vibius gave Teriana a scornful once-over and then turned his scowl on Lydia, eyes clouded with wine and distaste, as though a pair of rats had interrupted his evening stroll. Lydia instinctively recoiled.
Which was a mistake.
Teriana’s hand snapped to her knife hilt, and Lydia was certain that if she hadn’t grabbed hold of her friend’s wrist Teriana would’ve stuck the blade into Vibius’s guts.
Mercifully, Vibius didn’t seem to notice, and he swayed on his feet as he said, “As if you aren’t embarrassment enough, you have to fraternize with a sailor.” Then he wheeled on her father. “You indulge her.”
Her father straightened, anger seeming to wipe away the effects of his illness. “And I’ll continue to indulge her while it is within my power to do so.” Then he gave Lydia a warning nod that had her dragging Teriana around the corner before the situation could devolve further.
“That pompous prick,” Teriana snarled once they were outside. “He better watch his back, because I’m of a mind to cut off his—”
Lydia held up a hand, wary of Vibius still being in earshot. “While that’s a delightful visual, I really need you to curb your tongue in his presence.”
Teriana stared at her as though she was a stranger. “Not like you to be a shrinking violet.”
“Yes, well…” The situation felt too monumental to explain, a sudden weariness stealing over her. “He’s my father’s heir.”
Realization dawned on Teriana’s face, the color of her eyes shifting and darkening into stormy seas. “You’ll be his property when he inherits.”
Property. It was true, but Lydia hated the blasted word. Hated how it made her feel less than human.
“Any way around that?” her friend asked, though she had to know the answer.
“If I were to be married.”
Silence filled the space between them, telling Lydia exactly what her friend thought of such a solution.
Finally, Teriana said, “Surely there are men falling over themselves to gain a connection with your family?” Her voice was light, but the turbulent waves in her eyes belied her tone.
“Perhaps they would be if everyone didn’t know my father was ill. It would be a