a room with men who had moments ago been fully aware of her presence. If she could learn to walk within the shadows—she didn’t dare try now—she might become the most successful and secret assassin Echon had ever known.
“Marius showed her to us,” Asselin disagreed. “You invited her, Jav. You’re the only one of us who can.”
“Sacha, that’s not true—”
“Yes, my prince.” Asselin’s voice softened, sympathy in it. “It is. It’s why we’re never more than four, Javi. We can only present outsiders. It’s your will that takes them in or leaves them to the cold.”
Javier slumped in his seat, expression unguarded and youthful. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”
Asselin crooked a smile. “We haven’t been boys in a long time, Javi. I don’t like to use it around Marius and Liza.” His grin went more sheepish. “We knew each other first. I think of it as my name for you, and if I used it, it would become theirs, too.”
“Jealous lordling,” Javier said, but he leaned forward to reach for Asselin’s hand, grasping it a moment.
“Rarely.” Asselin sat back with a sigh and kicked his heels out on the rug. “Which brings us, Jav, back to Eliza.”
Javier lifted his eyebrows. “She’s become a jealous lordling? Sacha—” The prince straightened, curious dismay wrinkling his forehead. “Is that why none of you have married? Because of me? Because you think you need my…approval?”
“Oh, God, Jav, don’t tie the noose yet. There are moments when you’re our only line to freedom. Marriage beds will come soon enough. They’re political machinations, not full of love and romance. It won’t make any difference if you like our wives. Hell, it won’t make any difference if we like our wives. A woman’s got no strength to come between the four of us anyway. Which,” Asselin said, “brings us back to Eliza, Jav. Again.”
“All right, all right! God in Heaven, Sacha. What’s the problem?”
“Her father’s found her out, Jav.”
Javier’s eyes shuttered, light in them turning black. “Then I’ll protect her.”
“She won’t let you, Jav. She never has.”
“Don’t be absurd. She has rooms here—”
“She’ll refuse them as long as Irvine is here.”
Javier came up short. “Is she as jealous as that? Beatrice is—”
“A distraction? A toy? Easier to believe when she’s not on your arm every evening and in your bed every night. Are you going to introduce her to your mother?”
“God,” Javier said with feeling, then exhaled. “I’ll have to, if I continue with her. Mother’s absence has been—”
“A gift?”
“Not unwelcome.” Javier glanced at the stool where Belinda sat, as if imagining her there. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, watching with interest. After a moment he shook his head and turned his attention back to Sacha. “But once she’s returned, I’ll have to make the introduction. I can’t put Beatrice aside right now.”
Fascinated horror lit Asselin’s eyes. “Good God, man, you haven’t gotten her pregnant, have you?”
Javier blanched and shuddered. “No. My God, no. It’s—There are other things. Other reasons.” He shrugged, making an end of it. Sacha sighed explosively.
“You’re bewitched, Javi. Look, Liz won’t come to my home, either, but if she goes home her father will likely—”
Javier lifted a hand. “I think I have a solution. One she won’t like, but it may appeal. Sacha, don’t tell her you were here talking about her, all right?”
“Do I look like a complete fool?” Asselin demanded. Javier gave him a slow grin and Sacha laughed. “Some friend you are. All right. All right, Jav, but make quick work of it, because she’s got nowhere to go.” He looked around. “What the hell happened to Irvine? I thought she was bringing more drink.”
Belinda cocked an eyebrow curiously, then gathered her skirts and stood to slip through shadow in search of wine.
8
Dawn came on before Javier brought the subject around to Eliza and offered up his plan. Belinda sprawled across his bed, hair twisted over her shoulder into a mocking semblance of propriety. Javier stood at his window, watching the mist-coated palace grounds as sunlight struggled to break through the grey. “So your women will all be under one roof?” Belinda murmured. “Convenient, my lord.”
He scowled over his shoulder. “It’s not like that between Eliza and myself, Beatrice. I thought you knew that.”
“I do. I was only teasing, my lord.” She stood and crossed to him, putting her fingertips on his shoulders. “Then why?”
“Eliza’s father doesn’t like her friendship with me.”
Belinda’s eyebrows shot up. “Doesn’t like a friendship with the prince?”
“He thinks