"Come on, it's exciting!" I gushed, having always loved my own birthday.
"I suppose," he took a sip of his wine and looked at me intently. "I just wish.... I just wish that it didn't have to be such a big deal. You know? Father is planning this god-awful party in which he is inviting half of the Kingdom and I will have to sit there and pretend to like everyone and dance with hundreds of snotty and single girls, while their parents plot and plan how to break off my engagement and get their daughter a crown instead of Seraphina."
"Oh," I stared at him, a little shocked. That wasn't really what I had expected from a royal birthday party.
"Don't they believe you love Seraphina?" I asked.
"Nobody believes that," he laughed bitterly. "Everyone understands Father's agenda." When I gave him a curious look he continued, "There hasn't ever been a royal wedding where the couple married for love. It's all about power and longevity. My engagement is no different and most of the Kingdom understands that. So, they hope that they can find a way to convince Father their daughter, or niece, or granddaughter, or whoever is more suited for Queen."
"Would he ever change his mind?" I gasped, finding it hard to believe marriage was thought of as nothing more than a business transaction.
"Well, I don't know. Seraphina was very carefully chosen, and her father played his cards right. A very compelling case would have to be made. And I am pretty sure Father would lose a lot of money, should the betrothal be called off."
"What does that mean?" I asked in shock.
"George, Seraphina's father, negotiated very shrewdly. I don't know all of the details but I do know that there was a lot of money involved, and whatever deal was struck meant enough for me to leave England and end up here." Kiran looked around the restaurant with the tiniest hint of disgust.
"So your birthday party is just one big dating show?"
"Most likely," he mumbled, taking another drink of wine and silencing his pocket once more.
"Well, that sounds.... awful." I looked down at our clasped hands, not excited about the prospect of all those girls oogling Kiran at all.
"Are you jealous already?" he smirked at me. The amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.
"What? No," I replied, not convincing either one of us.
"You've nothing to worry about, Eden," his eyes grew serious, their light turquoise turning to a dark blue in the span of a thought, that seemed to reveal the depth of his soul, "I am nothing less than bound to you." He smiled shyly and my heart was suddenly beating as if it would escape from the confines of my chest. "I cannot escape you."
"Kiran, I...." I didn't know how to reply, I couldn't define the feelings that echoed his out loud, they seemed too much.
"Eden," he cut me off, hitting his jeans pocket and forcefully quieting his buzzing cell phone. "when you were dy-, when you were infected with the King's Curse, I knew that would be the end for me. If you wouldn't have made it, if you wouldn't have.... survived, I don't know how I could have...." His voice dropped and he looked away, ashamed of the nearly overflowing emotion. "I didn't though. I mean, I don't think there was really any threat of me dying," I said casually, hoping to erase his fears, but remembering how I had longed for death in those torturous moments.
"Yes, that's right, the invincible Eden," he smiled again, but his eyes remained serious. "When I said before that I couldn't lose you, I meant it. Losing you would be the end of me."
"I love you," I whispered,
"I love you, too," he leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips, my magic found his, tangling the two together in a rapturous web and I felt his words to the very core of my being.
"So, is there any chance that I can convince your father-"
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and answering it roughly, "What?"
He had withdrawn his hand and I reached for my wine, watching him grow more and more frustrated with the caller. He argued for several minutes before growing completely quiet, and that's when I assumed his father got on the phone. He listened for a few more minutes and then hung up without saying another word.
"Would you mind terribly if we finished dinner with my parents?" he asked quietly, clearly annoyed.
"Thank you for the offer, but really, it's fine. You can just drop me off at home." I shuddered at the thought of having to sit around another family dinner pretending not to be in love with Kiran and hoping it wasn't the night Lucan decided to throw me in prison.
"I would love to under different circumstances, believe me. But your presence has been specifically requested." Kiran's scowl said all that it needed to; my heart dropped into my stomach and I took a big drink of wine, trying to drown my nerves.
"Why?" I asked, when I could find my voice again.
"I don't know what my father is playing at." Kiran replied, gesturing to the waitress and handing her a black plastic card from his wallet to pay for the wine.
I poured myself another glass of wine, rather unladylike, and forced myself not to just down the whole glass in one sip. I didn't understand the dinner invitation or the mystery behind Lucan's obvious interest in me. If he was going to use me against my parents, I wished he would just get it over with. He wasn't the only one interested in whether they were alive or not.
The waitress came back with Kiran's card and I finished my wine while Kiran signed the receipt. My magic was still recovering from the last remnants of the King's Curse, so if I was in real danger I might also be in actual trouble. I didn't have much of a choice, though, and surely Kiran wouldn't let anything happen to me. I didn't know much about the relationship between father and son, but I believed he meant what he said and that he wouldn't let anything come between us.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kiran drove the sports car abruptly up to the valet. I braced myself with one hand on the arm rest and the other gripping my seat belt, and watched the poor attendant jump out of the way. Kiran was at my door before the valet could recover. I was charmed by his chivalry, but the Titan in me fought against the idea that this was a trap and screamed at me to be careful. Despite the dull but still painful stabbing feelings I felt every time I used magic, I released as much as I could to keep my instincts sharp and warm up my intuition. Hopefully, dinner in the penthouse suite of Omaha's Magnolia Hotel would be exactly that, just dinner.
Kiran led me through a narrow but stylish lobby, trimmed with gold and accented with red velvet furnishings, past the front desk and elevators. We walked through a marbled hallway out into a courtyard filled with snow and up salted stone steps into the presidential suite. He was silent the entire way and did not attempt to touch me or even offer me his elbow. I was thankful he had decided on caution as well.
The suite was magnificent, two stories with a full kitchen and dining room. I was assaulted by delicious smells before any of my other senses could react. The Magnolia Hotel had been remodeled out of one of the older buildings in Omaha. The taste wasn't modern and definitely not as high tech as some of the newer hotels downtown, but the old world feel was comfortable, and the luxury and class still obvious.
"Ah, there he is," Lucan stood from a rich, dark wooden round table that sat nine other guests, including Kiran's mother.
"Yes, Father. Here I am," Kiran said good-naturedly, as if a switch had been turned and Kiran was suddenly happy to be there. "Hello, Mother." he said more quietly, bending over to kiss her on the cheek, while I hung awkwardly back, afraid to leave any proximity to the door.
"And you've brought a guest, I see," Lucan announced happily, as if I was a surprise, and not there because of his specific command, "Please, join us Eden."
I curtsied clumsily, before removing my hot pink scarf and handing it to a maid that appeared out of nowhere. I looked down at my disheveled clothes. I had wanted to look edgy, feeling more rock and roll than royalty; cringing at my furry boots and wishing someone had run this turn of events by me as an option for the evening before I left the house.
"I believe you know Amory, your Headmaster." Lucan gestured two seats to his left, on the other side of his wife; I nodded solemnly. I was thankful Amory was there, but still afraid to look him in the eyes. "Next to him we have Victor and Thora Dane, Victor is the Minister of Foreign Relations for the Kingdom. And then, of course, is my darling sister, Princess Bianca and her husband, Jean Cartier, the Grand Duke of Canesbury; they are in town for Kiran's birthday. You have already met Amelia; next to her is the Advisor to Military Affairs, Petru Beklea. Next to him is the Counselor for Military Maneuvers, Constantine Tirlia. For everyone else, this is Eden Matthews, a friend and schoolmate of Kiran's. Thank you, Eden, for joining us."
"No, thank you, your Highness. The pleasure is mine," I replied, shakily, taking my seat in between Kiran, who was sitting at his father's right hand and the gray haired, bull-dog looking man, Constantine Tirlia, who was apparently the go-to man on all things military in action. I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled my shirt over the exposed shoulder I had thought was so sexy just a couple hours ago.
The first course was brought out by an overwhelming number of servants, I would have thought impossible to fit in the posh but small kitchen. I waited like everyone else until Lucan took the first bite of his fish drenched in some fragrant white sauce and everyone else followed his example. I had never been one to appreciate the taste or texture of seafood but I found the courage and forgot about being finicky for now.
The adults eased into grown-up conversations about different high ranking officials that were either doing phenomenal jobs or awful jobs and should be imprisoned. I didn't recognize any of the names and got lost quickly between the extensive fancy titles and hard to pronounce names, representing every region of the world.
I focused on my fish, looking forward to the next course. Kiran was an ice sculpture next to me, frozen in place, except to move his fork to his mouth. He joined in the discussion, giving those that might have been in trouble hope, by testifying of some obscure great thing they did for him. I kept my eyes on Amelia, who despite the glossed over expression dimming the usual brightness of her deep chocolate eyes, still exuded the warmth and gravitational pull I noticed in India. She was still the magnet all eyes turned to and the spark of life in an otherwise dreary dinner conversation.
"I know now how I recognize you," the Minister of Foreign Affairs stared me down from across the table during a lull in the conversation and middle of the third course. I cleared my throat, afraid of where this was going. "You're the girl from the trial last October."
Every head snapped to attention, facing me directly. Eyes made of stone, accusing me silently, stared me down, daring me to deny it. I couldn't deny anything; it was the truth and I could hardly convince anyone here otherwise.
"Yes," I cleared my throat. "That was me," I glanced at Amelia hoping to find solace in her warm eyes, and she did not disappoint. At the mention of the trial, her glossy eyes flickered to life and she stared at me as if encouraging me to speak my mind.