When the last toast faded and the music died, the nobles withdrew like the tide, leaving the banquet hall scattered with empty goblets and the sweet rot of spilled wine. Lara was about to retreat with the servants when a voice, low and deliberate, stopped her.
"Take her to the side chamber in my quarters." King Roman instructed the servants. "I could not wait for tomorrow to claim her."
Lara pursed her lips and clenched her fists.
"I will make sure she is ready for you, Your Majesty." Queen Miranda's words slid over the hall like sugar. The sweetness in her tone made the hairs along Lara's forearms rise.
"You always know what I want, my queen," Roman replied, indulgence curling around his words. "I will come after I discuss important matters with the generals."
Queen Miranda stood near the columns, her gown whispering against the marble. The guards who flanked the doors pretended not to hear.
Lara turned slowly. "Your Majesty."
