The door swung open, and a servant poked her head in. “Is the Artist ready? Everyone’s waiting.”
“We were just finishing up.” Delphi quickly tidied Tobias’s hair. “Off you go, love. Don’t want to keep Her waiting.”
Despite his misgivings, he followed the servant, a flurry of nerves swarming his gut. There wasn’t a single thing about this day to look forward to, as tolerating The Savior’s company was but one of several trials to endure. A fiery heat slithered up his neck the moment he reached the atrium; the other competitors were already seated, but his eyes locked onto Kaleo alone.
Cosima darted in front of him. “Oh good, you’re here.” She cupped his cheeks. “You’re right on time, dove. We’re just getting started.”
The men trailed behind Her as She offered a tour through the palace, a task that could’ve been pleasant had it not been for the company. They plodded from room to room while She provided some history: this is the royal bathhouse, reserved for the highest of birth, and this is the kitchen, where the finest food is prepared, and this is a place where people go and things happen. Tobias’s attention slipped instantly, but he wasn’t alone in his tedium. In fact, the only man who seemed present was Flynn; he followed after Cosima like a puppy dog, and Tobias wondered if his cock was wagging like a happy tail attached to the wrong end.
“And this is the gallery.” Cosima charged into the room like a bull. “Lovely, isn’t it? I don’t come here often, but it’s quite charming.”
The air in the room felt odd—comfortable like home, yet strained, as home had been infiltrated by unwanted guests. Cosima tromped over the spot where Tobias and Leila had sat for hours, stopping in front of a single wall.
“Hm, this wall is empty,” She mumbled. “Strange.”
Flynn ambled through the space, squinting. “It’s dark in here.”
“It’s dark everywhere,” Raphael muttered.
Flynn gestured toward the gallery windows. “Why are all the shades drawn?”
Cosima twirled toward him, Her dress spinning in a circle. “Because I glow, dove.”
“Sounds utterly enchanting. You should show us.”
She laughed. “My Prince, do you think I’m being coy? Most men can’t tolerate even a glimpse of My light.”
“Why?” Raphael grumbled. “Is it ugly? Repellent?”
She shot him a glare. “It’s powerful.” She turned back to Flynn. “They fall weak at the sheer sight of it. One look, and they’re on the floor like a drunken fool. Of course there’s an adjustment period, takes time and exposure. Something My Champion will get plenty of, I’m sure.”
The door slid open, and a servant ambled into the room, bowing. “Dinner’s served in the atrium.”
“Wonderful.” Cosima flicked Her wrist at the men. “Follow Me, doves.”
The group traveled back to the atrium, where dinner looked more like a feast. Flynn and Cosima continued with their prattle, while Raphael and Tobias picked at their food in silence, eyeing the huddle in the corner of the room. Drake and Kaleo stood with the Sovereign, speaking in hushed tones, while the Sovereign’s glare spilled over Tobias like filth.
“Look at them,” Raphael said. “They’re not even subtle.”
Kaleo and Drake headed back to the table, and the Sovereign went on his way, staring at Tobias as he trudged off.
“Apologies, Your Holiness.” Kaleo took a seat beside Cosima. “Your doting father had words for us.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right. It’s lovely to see you getting on so well, do know how much I support that.”
Kaleo caught Tobias’s gaze and winked, while Tobias channeled his anger into his fists, forcing himself to look away.
Leila. She stood just beyond the atrium among a group of servant girls, her body draped in the sweetest pink dress like a breath of summer. Her eyes met his before flitting away, and even that brief instance of connection sent his heart beating faster.
“Artist?”
Tobias’s gaze darted back to the table. The entire group stared at him, as Cosima must’ve been saying his laurel for some time.
“Apologies. I found myself distracted.”
Flynn grimaced. “What a cock, how offensive. He should be hanging on Your every word.”
“Oh, stop that. I know My Artist. He’s shy is all. Isn’t that right?” Cosima caressed Tobias’s cheek. “You’ll warm up, won’t you?”
“Shy?” Flynn let out a smug laugh. “Let me tell you, shyness does a man no favors. Women want a bold man. They want confidence.”
Cosima raised an eyebrow. “My Prince, are you trying to tell Me what women like?”
“Am I wrong?” He crossed his arms, sitting tall. “I’m no woman,