“Don’t hesitate on my account,” she said. “I am quite weary from travel, but it is my duty to Farhall to see this through. I am more than willing to wait until your superior is free to discuss the matter.”
The captain swallowed convulsively, glanced around the room, and seemed to come to a decision. “Your Highness,” he said, then bowed and left in evident haste.
Just as Leisa was beginning to wonder how to soothe the tension that remained, Lady Piperell glided into the room. She paused beside Leisa’s chair with her hands folded and bent her head meekly.
“Your Highness,” she said, giving Leisa a discreet wink, “perhaps we could offer everyone some tea.”
On the inside, Leisa burst out laughing at the idea of an entire roomful of guards juggling swords and china teacups, but on the outside, she merely nodded her assent.
“Of course, Lady Piperell. That would be quite refreshing.”
Did she in fact have the nerve to serve tea on royal porcelain to ten guards who had probably never bothered with tea before in their lives?
Why, yes. Yes, she did. Or rather, Lady Piperell did, as though it were a normal, everyday occurrence. Though Leisa did notice a slight blush staining the older woman’s cheeks after Zander bowed and thanked her as properly as any courtier.
And it was only ten guards because Lady Piperell hadn’t seemed to even consider the idea of offering tea to the Raven, who had taken up a post in one of the corners. He was, after all, wearing a mask, and there was no way for him to drink without taking it off. Perhaps he never took it off in front of others.
But as Leisa sat there watching the others nervously sip their tea while waiting for Captain Orvell’s return, the demon of curiosity (or perhaps sheer contrariness) began to plague her.
So she gestured to Lady Piperell for another cup. When the other woman held it out, steam rising sinuously from the surface of the russet liquid, Leisa deliberately ignored the voice in her head suggesting she was about to do something stupid, and took it. Then she made her way to the corner of the room where her new shadow lurked, silent and still.
“Would you care for tea?” She asked shyly, her eyes on the cup as she held it out in both hands.
From the general response, one might have thought she’d suggested he might like to eat a small child. All conversation in the room fell silent and was replaced by a sort of mesmerized horror, as if they knew something terrible was about to happen but couldn’t look away.
Leisa ignored them. Again, she felt that strange prickling sensation that she was convinced meant the Raven was watching her. But this time, she lifted her gaze and watched him back, focusing intently on the eyeholes in the mask. She wondered whether whoever was in there could feel her regard as she did his. Whether he even liked tea. Or why she even cared.
The steam from the cup curled through the air between them, the only motion in the room as she held out her offering, wondering how long her stupidity—or stubbornness—would demand that she stand there.
Too long, probably. Leisa finally let out a sigh and dropped her eyes to the tea. Perhaps she’d insulted him. Or perhaps she was assigning motives and emotions where none existed. She might as well drink it herself.
But before she could retreat, before she could lower the cup, one black-gauntleted hand covered hers. It never touched, merely hovered over the cup as if asking a question.
Leisa didn’t dare breathe, and from the silence around her, neither did anyone else in the room. She simply lifted the cup again, fractionally, to make clear that she intended him to take it.
When he did, she almost fell over.
Chapter 7
The cup seemed tiny and fragile in his hands. What had possessed him to take it? He couldn’t drink it, and the incongruous sight of a porcelain teacup in his gauntleted hands was likely to make him a figure more to be ridiculed than respected.
Especially now that he was stuck standing there like a statue with steam curling up in front of him, obscuring his vision when he needed it the most.
And what was the princess doing? After shocking him so profoundly?
She simply returned to her seat. As though there was nothing very surprising about either of their actions.
The spectators, however, gave the lie to that assumption. The moment she seated herself, it