I reached the antechamber with a painted dome ceiling, circular floor motif, and several doors leading from it. Two guards stood at attention beside each door. Music poured from the only open one. I headed that way.

The guard turned to announce me, but I caught his arm.

“Not yet,” I whispered. “I’m kind of nervous. Is it okay if I check out the guests first while I gather my courage?”

He gave a brief nod.

“Thank you.”

Blue Room was aptly named. The wallpaper, the lounges and chairs, the ceiling murals, and the carpet were all blue. Like the front entrance, the paneling on the walls, the sconces, and chandeliers were gilded.

About a dozen guests mingled around the room while a quartet played various wind and string musical instruments to the right. The women wore elaborate hairdos and dresses similar to the blue gown I’d rejected. Lace and bows galore. Men wore colorful silk frock coats with matching pants and cream vests. Lace peeked from the wide turned-up sleeves and their necks, and embroidered details decorated their coats and vests.

Tully was so not going to be happy with my choice. A few men and women vied for his attention in the middle of the room, where he lounged on an ornate chair. His royal blue frock coat would have matched the outfit he’d wanted me to wear.

Oh well, what could he possibly do to me for disobeying him? Public image was everything to him. It explained why he’d stashed his mother in the tower, and why he’d cleared the room the day I’d arrived in the palace.

Standing next to Tully in black, except for his white shirt, cravat, and the designs on his outfit, Lord Conyngham seemed more interested in the occupants of the room than the conversation. He saw me first and frowned.

I waved and smiled. The frown became a scowl. He leaned down and whispered something to Tully. I ducked.

“Now, lass,” the guard said. “They’ve been waiting for you.”

I sighed. “Okay. Go ahead. Throw me to the wolves.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes. Then his lips twitched.

“Hardly, lass.”

“If they turn on me, promise to come to my rescue.”

He looked thoroughly confused.

“Just kidding. Nerves talking. Go ahead. Tell them I’m here. I’m starving.”

He hesitated.

“You’ll be fine, lass,” he reassured me.

“I don’t think so, but that’s okay. I’ll survive.”

Nodding again, he stepped forward and banged his staff on the floor. Conversation died, eyes shifting toward the door. The women got to their feet, and the men stepped away from the prince.

“Alexandria Greendale,” the guard announced.

I started forward, my eyes locked with Tully’s. He frowned as his gaze trekked down my gown then back up. Maybe I should have worn the stupid blue dress. Since I couldn’t do anything about it, it was time to play the part of a tamed captive.

My smile broadened as I got closer to him, and his frown melted away. Unlike our first meeting, he stood before I reached him. I gave the perfect curtsy and stayed in the pose. Nereus had said it was a sign of loyalty and humility.

More like utter humiliation.

Tully lifted my chin and studied my face so intently nervousness settled in the pit of my stomach.

“What happened to the blue dress?” he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

“I wanted to surprise you. I’ve been told plum deepens my eye color. May I say you look quite dashing, Prince Tullius? Blue is definitely your color.”

He chuckled. Then another frown flickered across his face.

Yikes, had I overdone it? Flirting was so not my thing.

“You are right, Alexandria. Blue would not have complemented your eyes.” He took my hand and walked around the room, personally introducing me to the guests, starting with Lady Morgana and her husband.

“No, Alexandria,” Tully said when I started to curtsy. “You don’t curtsy to them. They curtsy to you.”

“But they’re royalty, and I’m not.” Not that I cared.

“They’re nobility, not royalty, while you will be my mate and become a royal by marriage, so you will outrank them. The ones you curtsy to are my grandfather and my mother, and various cousins who rarely visit the port. You’ll meet them when our union becomes official.”

I didn’t plan to be around for them to matter. Give me the primitive rules on Vaarda any day. At least I’d been allowed to be myself.

“I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it,” I said, my smile so wide and sweet I was amazed I didn’t throw up. “I meant to return the clothes and cloak I borrowed from you, Lady Morgana. Maybe I could call on you sometime?”

Her eyes went to Tully as though asking for his permission. He nodded.

“It would be an honor to host you, Alexandria,” she said.

The next several women curtsied, and the men bowed, each was a lord and an earl of something, the women lady this or that, most of them wives. A few were companions, two of them Tuh’rens. Lord Conyngham was last in line. He and another man had come solo.

“You two must learn to get along,” Tully said, his gaze volleying between Lord Conyngham and me. “She calls you stuck up, and you don’t like Tuh’rens, so talk and get to know each other. I’ll be right back.”

Tully left the room with his handkerchief pressed to his lips. The guards by the entrance followed him. Everyone stayed quiet until he left the room. Then they started whispering and throwing me furtive glances.

What? Weren’t they here when I’d arrived? I recognized a few faces. Lord Conyngham stared straight ahead and ignored me. If I didn’t know about his clandestine activities, I’d be hating him right now.

Aware of the stares, I stepped in front of him and curtsied.

“I’m Alexandria Greendale, but everyone calls me Lexi. Since the prince wants us to be friends, let’s try to at least be cordial to each other.” I made sure my voice carried. “What do you say, Lord Conyngham?”

He stared down at me with annoyance. Damn, he was good. I couldn’t tell whether his reaction was real or feigned.

“Do stop glaring at the lass, Dathan,” Lady Morgana said, joining us. “Don’t be fooled by his scowl, Alexandria. He’s a really nice guy once you get to know him.”

“Really? Not from where I’m standing,” I said.

Lady Morgana laughed. “He grows on you. Can I steal her for a moment, Dathan?”

She didn’t wait for his response, just slipped her hand through mine and escorted me away from him and the others.

I glanced back to find Lord Conyngham watching us. Despite what he was doing for his people, he had a stick up his a-hole.

“He can be difficult, lass, so don’t take it personally,” Lady Morgana said.

“I don’t.”

“I know it’s too presumptuous of me to ask, but could you do me a favor, Alexandria?”

“Lexi, please. Alexandria is mouthy. What is it?”

“I’d like to see my brother. When I got an invitation to the dinner, I thought the prince meant to give me news about his release. He hasn’t said anything. Can you appeal to him? I just want Ren home.”

Was she serious? Captain Shithead Ren had freaking kidnapped me. He belonged exactly where he was.

“Tully will listen to you because he’s smitten by you.” Lady Morgana smiled and glanced at the others before adding, “He kept staring at the door and drumming his fingers before you arrived. And you should have seen his face when you were announced. Please, Ren doesn’t deserve to be in the dungeons. He should be rewarded for rescuing you. We don’t even know why he’s being detained.”

Smitten? I wanted to gag. As for her brother, I’d like to spit in his face after getting the name of the traitor in Vaarda.

“I’ll see what I can do, Lady Morgana.” I even squeezed her hand. “I’d also love to personally thank your brother for rescuing me.” I glanced over her shoulder. Tully had changed his outfit. The mauve frock coat was close to my outfit in color. “Oh, here comes the prince. I’ll start working on him.”

“He’s changed to match your outfit. How romantic. I told you. He’s smitten.”

She gave me a conspirator’s grin while I wanted to tell her to shut up. I met Tully before the others could crowd around him and slipped a hand around his arm.

“Look at us,” I whispered. “So perfect together.”

He nodded, but I noticed the sweat dotting his forehead. And he looked paler.

“Are you okay, my prince?” I almost gagged on the “my prince” part.

“Yes.” He patted my hand absentmindedly. “Perfectly fine.”

“Could we tour the dungeons and see the prisoners sometime? Maybe after dinner?”

“Conyn can take you. I can’t abide the stench.”

Someone announced dinner, and we filed into a dining room. Done in red, from the patterned carpet to the murals on the ceiling, its long windows faced the front courtyard. Despite the wall candle sconces, larger candelabra were spaced out along the already set table.

Men in black and white outfits, including white gloves, pulled out chairs for us. I was seated between Tully and Lord Conyngham and across from the other gentleman who’d come solo. The rest of the guests paired up.

The same men, who’d pulled our chairs, left and returned with trays of hors d’oeuvres, one of them presenting the tray to Tully for inspection. Tully nodded but declined to be served. Instead, he covered his mouth with the handkerchief again as though the dishes were disgusting.

The roasted pheasant, miniature flaky pastries, lobster tail, and oysters looked scrumptious, the presentation impressive, especially the colorful pheasant feathers. The servers placed potions on plates in front of guests and retreated.

Tully lifted his crystal glass. “A toast to my future bride and mate.”

The others raised their glasses. I picked up mine and pasted on an Oscar-worthy smile for my audience, then took a tiny sip.

“Try the pheasant,” Tully urged.

He watched me cut a slice and put the food in my mouth. Totally creepy, of course. The meat was probably tasty, but it tasted like cardboard.

“Tasty,” I said. After days of beef, potato stews, and bread, I would have enjoyed the different dishes, but it wasn’t easy to do that when the man you loathed watched you like you were the only dish he wanted to sample.

“The pheasant are from the royal forest,” Tully explained. “The oyster from the eastern shores and lobster from the north, and the beef pie… ah, that is a specialty of our people.”

Tully lifted his hand, and a server placed several pieces of pastries on his plate. He finished each in two bites and washed them down with a drink. Seconds later, he stood with the handkerchief pressed to his lips and his stomach rumbling. He looked ready to throw up.

“Continue,” he commanded and left the room using one of the side doors.

Stares followed him.

Lord Conyngham excused himself from the table, and I thought he would follow Tully. Instead, he walked to one of the guards and whispered something to him. The guard left. Lord Conyngham returned, picked up the prince’s goblet, and tasted the wine, his eyes narrowing.

“What’s going on, Conyn?” one of the lords asked.

Lord Conyngham didn’t answer. He disappeared through the same door the prince had used, and seconds later, raised voices reached us.

“I think the prince ate something that doesn’t agree with him,” one of the ladies said and giggled.

The man seated next to her shot her a quick warning glance.

“We all ate the same food at Conyn’s yesterday, and we’re not sick,” the man across from them said.

“Maybe he’s been poisoned,” the same lady who’d spoken whispered and glanced at the servants lining the wall, waiting to take away our plates. From the twinkle in her eyes, she was enjoying the turn of events way too much.

“She’lahn! Don’t ever say something like that,” her mate said and glanced at me.

 I stared back at him in horror as the conversation I’d had with Gwyn zipped through my head. She’d said the prince wouldn’t bother me for two days, maybe even three. What if they’d put laxatives in his drink? Or something worse?

No one went back to their meal. When one of the women lifted her goblet, her mate took it from her hand. The servants looked uneasy. Muffled voices came from the doorway the prince and Lord Conyngham had used.

They grew louder.

“Don’t, sire.” That was Lord Conyngham.

“Stand aside, Conyn.”

“This is a mistake.”

“I will have you thrown in the dungeons, Conyn. Move. Your prince commands you.”

Conyn must have refused because he entered the room first. The prince followed, his shirt untacked, the cravat gone, and his hair in disarray. His eyes looked wild, his face sweaty.

“You,” Tully snarled, pointing at me. “You poisoned me.”

The music stopped from the Blue Room. Still and heavy silence followed. For one brief moment, words failed me. I couldn’t deny what could be true and condemn the cook and the kitchen staff. From Tully’s furious expression, someone was going to pay.

Lord Conyngham stopped him from reaching me by planting himself between us. I tried to come up with an explanation and failed.

“See? She’s not denying it, yet you keep defending her,” Tully yelled. “She did it. That’s why she went to the marketplace. To buy poison.”

“She didn’t, Tully,” Lord Conyngham said firmly. “The elixir was for the queen mother. Let’s go back to your quarters and wait for the oracle. I’ve already sent for her. She can give you something to calm your stomach.”

Tully tried to go around Lord Conyngham.

“She must be punished, Conyn. She did this to me.” He reached for me, and I shrunk into my seat.

“She didn’t. I saw the elixir the healer gave her.”

“Then you are working with her. I should lock you up, too, Conyn.”

“My prince, once you feel better, you’ll realize neither one of us could do anything like this to you.”

“Guards!” Tully yelled.

Footsteps approached, and the other guests scrambled to their feet and distanced themselves from us. Not one of them offered to help Lord Conyngham or me, and the servers looked too scared to intervene.

“Guards! Seize them and take them to the dungeons,” Tully cried. “Guards!”

Panic kicked in, and I jumped to my feet, my gaze flying toward the door leading to the Blue Room. I moved closer to Lord Conyngham. Hands grabbed a chunk of my hair and yanked.

“I got her!” Tully screamed.

Damn it! I started to fall backward, reaching to grab his wrist and ease the pain on my scalp.

“Guards!” he continued to scream like a demented person. “Get her. Take them to the dungeons.”

I tried to reach for the dagger hidden under my dress just as guards dressed in all black flew into the room with their swords drawn. I didn’t bother to look their way to know I was headed to the dungeons.

One threw something at me. I caught a glint of the blade, but everything else was a blur. I gave up the attempt to retrieve the dagger and raised my arms to cover my face.

A howl of pain filled the room, and I was free. An arm caught me before I fell off the table and cradled me against a broad chest. A familiar scent filled my lungs and comforting warmth surrounded me.