Dancing on the Block (The Criasmore Treaty Book 1) by Marina Barinova & Vasily Mahanenko

Author:Marina Barinova & Vasily Mahanenko [Barinova, Marina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26. Missolen

“You’re late,” Lady Eltinia hissed angrily. “Where were you? And you look like a commoner. Why aren’t you wearing the doublet I sent you?”

The dowager duchess grabbed her son by the arm and marched him to the center of the enormous ballroom. She looked dazzlingly elegant.

“I’m the damn imperial treasurer. You think I have time to think about what I’m wearing?” Demos whispered, still smiling at the guests.

If you only knew the trip I just had to take.

“The older you are, the more obnoxious you get.”

“I could tell you the same thing.”

Family values. Adorable.

“You could think about forgetting your pointless bravado and greet the guests for once,” his mother snapped back.

Demos used the remains of his composure to smile politely at his mother.

When father died, rumors rippled around the palace about mother having something to do with his untimely demise, that she availed herself of the services offered by some Ennian poisoners. I would have drunk the stuff willingly if I’d been in his shoes. She’s unbearable.

A bit later, Demos alluded to how stuffy it was inside and headed out to get some fresh air. His left temple was aching ominously, telling him that a new migraine was going to be hitting shortly. The wide terrace decorated with marble statues of half-naked girls with pitchers on their shoulders was empty. The laughter of the guests drifted up from the garden.

Demos sat down at the top of the narrow side staircase leading down to the fountain, pulled out his smoking accessories, and started filling his pipe. And even though he knew Ihraz was watching him, he couldn’t figure out where he was watching from. When he decided to play hide-and-seek, the Ennian didn’t give anyone else a shot.

The manager in charge of the festivities had outdone himself. Small candles in glass candleholders hung from fragile threads, creating the illusion that they were floating in mid-air, and Demos felt much better in the gentle glow than he had in the packed and brightly lit hall.

I can hide here for a bit, at least.

The reception had done him in. The duke lit a match with one of the candles and puffed into his pipe, though his enjoyment of the silence wasn’t long-lived—footsteps approached from behind him. A man and a woman spoke animatedly in Ennian. Demos recognized one voice as belonging to King Enrige, though he didn’t put himself through the trouble of getting up and greeting the king the way etiquette dictated.

You’re the last person I want to see, and you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to jump up and start bowing all over the place. This is a private audience that nobody has to do all that for.

“Your Grace?” The Gatson was a good actor, and his feigned surprise was convincing as he stopped next to the master of the house. “How unexpected, really!”

“An excellent evening, is it not?” Demos asked without turning to look at the king. “Such a clear sky—it’s almost like we can see the Crystal Hall.

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