I can, yet I will still be shaving your face. You want to make a good impression, yes? There are many men competing against you, and some of them are very handsome.”
The blade scraped against Tobias’s jaw, and he tried to dismiss his still-lingering nerves. “Is this your opinion?”
“I speak from observation, not of my own intention.”
“But you’re of age. There’s no man here who catches your eye?”
She raised an eyebrow. “No man anywhere catches my eye.”
Tobias relaxed into his seat. “Well then, based on your observation, tell me, am I the tournament toad? You can be honest.”
“Your hair, like a wavy mop. Your face, covered in whiskers. Your eyes, tired and sad.” She looked into his tired, sad eyes and smiled. “But that’s what I’m here for.”
“And what of my competition?”
Delphi cocked her head at the other end of the room. “Those three, over there. Are you familiar?”
The most memorable Lords—the Adonis, the Noble, and the Regal—sat at the opposite side of the sanctuary, their bodies greased and lips flapping per usual. “Vaguely,” Tobias said. “They talk a lot.”
“They’re lifelong acquaintances. The Adonis—his name is Beau.”
“Beau?”
“He’s an obvious front-runner as far as appearances go. The height, the musculature, the smile. He’s the conventional ideal. A true Adonis.”
Tobias eyed the Lord in question; bronzed skin, golden-brown waves spilling down to his shoulders, and hazel eyes Tobias could plainly see from where he sat. No doubt he had had his share of women, but all Tobias could focus on was the constant motion of his overflowing mouth.
“Then there’s Neil, the Noble.” Delphi dragged her blade along his cheek. “He’s awfully well groomed, what with those patterns in his hair. Plus, he has the golden skin and blue eyes. It’s a rare combination. Rare is beautiful.”
Rolling swirls were shaved into Neil’s dark, sable hair, a graceful contrast to the smug smirk he always wore.
“The Regal,” Delphi continued. “He’s your tentmate, yes? His name is Caesar, after his father and his father’s father. Caesar’s look is clearly of the northern variety but still widely adored. A man’s man, large and strapping with flowing blond locks.”
Caesar was the bulkiest of the three, with small, green eyes, skin the color of wheat, and a heavy brow. “I see,” Tobias said. “So they’re the standouts.”
“They top the list.” Delphi dropped her blade into her pocket. “Next would probably be Kaleo.”
Tobias went rigid, his calm demeanor stripped away.
“There are others worth noting, of course. The Cavalier is rather eye-catching. The Hunter—he has a rugged appeal. You’re somewhere in the mix as well. And I can’t forget the Prince, can I? He has a sleek look about him, doesn’t he?”
The Prince. He stood amid a circle of men, alert and surprisingly alive, laughing as if nothing had happened the night before, though the bandages on his chest said otherwise.
“I heard you saved his life yesterday,” Delphi cooed. “How heroic.”
“He’s not really a prince, is he?”
“No, but he’s certainly as wealthy as one. His family breeds the finest stallions in all the realms. The Savior’s own army purchases from them.” She toyed with new vials in various shades of orange. “No doubt he’s a great rider and fighter. Swordplay is so common among nobles, I’d imagine he’s an expert.”
“Seems as though you know a great deal about him.” Tobias eyed Delphi sidelong. “Seems as though you know a great deal about a lot of the men here.”
“People are fascinating, don’t you agree?” Delphi’s gaze flitted to his, shrinking into a look of intention. “I rather enjoy learning about them.”
Tobias stared at her in silence. The other men were far away, wrapped up in their own conversations, and against his better judgment, he lowered his voice.
“Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me more about my competition?”
He held his breath—and Delphi smiled.
“I could. If you ask the right questions.”
Tobias exhaled as quietly as possible. “Who here do you believe to be the greatest threat?”
She frowned. “That was the wrong question.”
“Because it was prying?”
“Because it was stupid. You already know the answer.”
Tobias hesitated. “Antaeus, Drake, and Kaleo. Can you tell me about them?”
Delphi nodded, massaging her creams into his palm. “Antaeus is a professional fighter. He lives in the arena. He kills for coin and glory.”
“Figures.”
“He’s also an idiot. And he doesn’t like to be reminded of it. His mind is dull, and his ego is fragile.”
“He killed a man for calling him a blasphemer.”
Delphi sighed. “Love, I doubt he even knows what the word blasphemer means.