Royal Fools

XXIX. Gifts

Emory's gaze remained on Lennox as his wife curtsied before him. The man was not particularly unsightly. In fact, he looked far more polished than Emory. His black hair was meticulously brushed away from his face, his brows and beard trimmed to perfection. His clothes and posture screamed order and dominance.

Lennox was not considered old, but Emory thought he was too old for Florence at forty-eight.

"I implore on your grace and benevolence, King Emory," Emperor Teodor said as he stepped in front of him again while Elene Lennox retreated. "I do not deserve such welcome for what my daughter has wrought upon you and the crown."

Emory looked over at Florence. Her head bent, she stood merely a few feet away from her new betrothed and the man's first wife. And somewhere in Gavaria, there was a second wife.

A third wife. Emory could not imagine it. Florence was supposed to shine, and she could never do so in the shadows of Lennox's wives. She was second to none.

Moving his gaze back to the Emperor, he forced a smile. "Let bygones be bygones. I hold this ball to welcome your arrival and celebrate our friendship." Moving his arm, he added, "Let us enjoy it."

And thus, the festivity began.

For the first time, he was thankful for the presence of Florence's brothers. Steffan was fast to meet Lennox and lead the man away from his sister, while Cassian escorted her to the other side of the garden with Lucy.

"What should I do?" Henry murmured beside him as they watched the Emperor take the chair beside Emory's.

"Make sure she's never alone with that man or her father," he ordered. "Her dress is causing her enough trouble as it is."

Henry took his task seriously for the remainder of the party. He inserted himself into Florence's little circle, and even pulled other Sutherlanders into the group, making an impenetrable wall.

Emory, meanwhile, had the heavy task of entertaining the Emperor. Once, they circled the garden and talked about flowers. Apparently, the man had a private garden at the back of his private chambers in Gavaria and was genuinely interested. Emory could not name all the plants the Emperor inquired about, so he might have invented a few.

Dinner was served in the grand dining hall. It was enough to let everyone get acquainted. He caught Lennox studying him a few times, his wife always standing dutifully beside him. And every time, Emory would search for Florence, and find relief that she was still with Cassian, Henry, and Lucy.

Dinner was long and arduous, but they all eventually survived it. When it was time, they went back to the garden, and the dancing began.

Never, not even once, did Emory see the Emperor approach his daughter. He talked to Steffan, and Emory supposed they discussed Florence because they both turned and looked in her direction. When the Emperor returned to his seat beside Emory, he laughed as one member of his entourage struggled to learn a Sutherlander waltz.

Then they discussed dancing, much to Emory's chagrin. He was never keenly fond of the arts, but the Emperor was.

He was particularly patient today, he wryly thought. But he had no choice. He also had to be very careful.

Finally, the Emperor started a conversation that made Emory snap in focus.

"How is Craig Martel doing?"

"He is alive," he replied.

The Emperor's face tightened as he nodded. "We have been looking for him for years. We want him back in Gavaria so he can be punished for the crimes he committed there."