Serpent's Claim (Serpent's Touch 2)

The woman glared at me but silently retreated to another chair down the table as I sat down next to him.

Once everyone had taken their seats, a flock of servants appeared, bringing out the drinks and trays laden with dishes.

One of the servants leaned over my shoulder, with a dish in one hand and a serving spoon in the other. “Frog eggs, my lady?”

“Um, no, thank you,” I replied quickly.

Kyllen’s soft chuckle sounded to my right. “I’ll take some.” He gave the servant a sign to come closer.

Gorgonians drank considerably more than they ate. Each guest had a large stein with a long handle standing in front of them. Servants with giant carafes on their shoulders constantly refilled the steins with water. In addition, each setting included a tall glass for wine and a wide cup with two handles for soup.

A servant with a crystal decanter filled with dark blue liquid bowed at my side next. “Fruit wine, my lady? It’s made with oranges and blueberries.”

I hesitated, wondering if alcohol might be good for me in this situation.

“Would you like some wine, Amira?” Kyllen asked.

I nervously scratched my nose under the veil, leaning his way. “I’ve never had wine before.”

“Never?” He stared at me like I’d just told him I ate live lizards for breakfast.

“No. Even if there was some at the menagerie, Madame certainly never served it to me.”

A smile spread across his face. “Give me that.” He took the decanter from the servant and poured a little of the blue liquid into my glass. “Here you go, my sweet pea,” he murmured, handing me my glass. “I love giving you all your firsts.”

He chuckled at my gasp. Blush warmed my cheeks, when I thought back to our first night in Lorsan and my very first orgasm that Kyllen gave me.

“May there be many more.” He clinked his glass against mine in a toast.

The way he stared at me over the rim of his glass while taking a sip, I knew he had not been talking about the wine. His eyes narrowed. Heat flashed in the dark gold of his irises. His look held a promise, sending a swirl of anticipation through my belly.

Udren lifted his wine glass.

“To my brother,” he declared loudly. “Let’s thank the Great Serpent for bringing Lord Kyllen back to us safe and sound.”

Everyone at the table raised their glasses. I lifted mine, too. The wine was sweet and fragrant. It slid down my throat smoothly.

The soft yellow lights suspended in the leaves above us kept moving. A few of them came close enough for me to see that they were insects—moths and dragonflies with glowing wings.

It was such a beautiful place up here in the giant tree above the placid bay. The warm, pleasant evening would’ve been easy to enjoy had it not been for the tension hanging over the High Lord’s table like a thunder cloud.

The courtiers studied me, some furtively, others more openly. When I mustered enough courage to meet their stares, I saw curiosity and calculation in their eyes. Some had undisguised hostility and resentment on their faces. None of the expressions seemed warm or friendly. I dropped my gaze, but their attention prickled at my skin like needles.

I emptied my glass of wine quickly. A servant appeared at my side, ready to refill it, but Kyllen waved him away.

“It’s best to space it out, sweetheart, especially since this is your first time drinking.” He slid a cup of cattail root soup my way, instead. “Drink this first. You must be hungry.”

The wine shrouded my awareness with fuzzy nothingness. It made it easier to deal with the battery of stares shot at me from every direction. A part of me wished I could lose myself in the effervescent indifference of the intoxication completely. But Kyllen was right, I had to remain alert. I lifted the cup of soup to my lips under the veil, sipping the warm liquid.

Bherlon raised his glass of wine.

“To you, Uncle!” he announced loudly before emptying it.

The man sitting on my left chuckled softly. He appeared more relaxed and easy-going than most of the people present.

I dared asking him, “What’s so funny?”

“He called him ‘uncle,’” the man snorted. “He’s older than Lord Kyllen by centuries!”

“Surely, that happens often with fae?” With their long lifespan and an almost as long fertility period, the lines between the generations would be fluid.

The man shrugged. “It does. But in this case, the uncle was born way before the nephew. So, he should be much older, but he’s not. That’s funny.” He snickered, making a silly face at me.

The way he held himself prompted me to ask, “How old are you?”

“I’m nineteen. Why?”

That might explain his goofy attitude and carefree manner. I hid a smile. It was unexpected to find someone younger than me at the table full of fae who’d lived for centuries.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

He puffed his chest out. “Lord Qayren. The heir to the Krevai Estate.”

“Nice to meet you.” I bowed my head. “I’m Amira.”

He squinted at me. “I’ve heard.”

By now, everyone must’ve heard who I was—the only human at the table, the only one with the veil.

He chugged his entire glass of wine at once.

“You know why else this is funny?” He tipped his chin at Bherlon. “His mother was supposed to be Lord Kyllen’s wife.”

“Oh, did Lord Udren marry Lady… Sorry, I forgot her name.”

“Lady Eiphed, the daughter of the High Lord of Prusim. Yes, she was our High Lady.”

“Was?”