Jac grunts his agreement. “I’m with the big man. Let’s reconvene after the wedding.”
“Why after? I can discuss attack strategies in a gown just as well as I can in my flight leathers” is Arwen’s low input.
“After,” Alaric says firmly, looking around the table. “I plan to enjoy my wedding night with my bride, if you don’t mind.”
Jac and Vaughn both grin.
I suppress a smile of my own as Arwen shoves her husband-to-be, noting there is no force at all behind the blow.
Finally, it is down to Soren and Penn. The two of them stare at each other from opposite sides of the table.
“After the wedding,” Soren says finally. “We will revisit this with fresh eyes.”
And cooler tempers,I hope.
Penn nods tightly. “Fine.”
With that, the war council disperses. Alaric and Arwen go first, his arm looped low around her waist, his mouth at her ear. Vaughn is on their heels. Soren hesitates a beat, eyes flashing over to me for a lingering look I cannot quite decipher, before he follows them off the terrace into the dark.
Jac’s gaze darts between Penn and me before he vaults to his feet. “We’ll just…go track down Farley and Cadogan. They said something about visiting those pleasure clubs the Paexyrian ladies were talking about earlier. That one, Yara, seems like a handful. Two redheads in one place can’t be left unattended for long.”
Visions of Yara and Farley move through my mind.
Gods, what a pair.
Mabon does not move.
“Mabon,” Jac mutters pointedly.
“What?” The stocky soldier’s dark brows shoot up his forehead. “I’m here to stand guard over our king, not indulge myself. I have no interest in whatever goes on in those clubs.”
Jac looks like he wants to reach out and throttle the man. “Yes,” he hisses. “You do.”
“I do not.”
“You do. You said so yourself, just a few moments ago.”
Mabon scoffs. “I said no such thing.”
Jac’s stare sharpens to daggers. “Man, for the love of the gods—”
“Mabon,” Penn interjects lowly. “Give us a moment, would you?”
Mabon is instantly on his feet, realization dawning quickly. There is a sheepish look on his typically self-assured face. “Right. The pleasure clubs sound…intriguing. Let’s go, Jac.”
The two men vanish so fast, you’d think they were under enemy fire.
Leaving me alone with Penn.
Chapter
twenty-three
At first, Penn says nothing.
In silence, he reaches out and pours us each another serving of the triple-strength gin. It is beginning to go to my head. I have not eaten any dinner, I remind myself.
Best sip slowly.