the family,
sister.”
“Thank you.” She pulled her hands free from
her sister’s hold, resisting the urge to wipe them on her linen slacks. There
was something insincere about her façade, and Anca had the irrational urge to
wash her hands to cleanse them from Nikia’s touch.
Demi cleared his throat. “Shall we sit?”
Anca waited until Valdemeer and Nikia
selected seats before she walked to the one on her father’s left. She smiled at
Demi as he held the chair for her before taking the seat beside her.
She was bursting with questions, but she was
reluctant to voice any with Nikia present. Something in the woman’s eyes
paralyzed her tongue. Nikia was dangerous.
She blinked at the strange thought,
wondering where it came from. It hadn’t felt like a thought that flowed from
her mind naturally. Rather, it had seemed to hammer its way into her thoughts
abruptly.
Nikia was the first to break the awkward
silence once the servants filled golden goblets with dark-red wine and placed
soup before Anca, Demi, and Nikia. “How is your mother?” The question was
appropriate, but there was a sharp edge to her tone. “Is she still living?”
“Yes. She’s been ill.”
“Her heart?” Nikia asked blandly.
Anca’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
She lifted a thin shoulder. “One of the
servants mentioned your mother’s condition.”
She glanced at Demi with a frown. “News
travels fast here, doesn’t it?”
“Exceedingly.” Nikia drained her glass and
gestured to Geza, who stood by the doorway. He hurried forward to fill her
glass again. “Will she recover?”
“If she avoids stress and follows her
doctor’s orders.”
“It would be unfortunate if you returned to
New York to find she had passed away during your vacation.” Nikia clicked her
tongue softly. “You mustn’t tarry long here at Castle Draganescu.”
“She isn’t that ill.” Anca’s brow furrowed.
Was she imagining the trace of warning she heard in her sister’s voice?
Demi spoke up in a firm tone. “Nothing will
happen to Her Highness. His Majesty instructed me to leave a guard with her
while Anca was away, to ensure her well-being. They will have arrived by now.”
His eyes locked with Nikia’s, and there seemed to be a battle of wills.
Finally, Nikia blinked. “That is good news.”
She set down her goblet and pushed away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I
have no appetite this evening.” She nodded to Valdemeer and Demi before walking
around the table to stand beside Anca.
Anca turned her head and looked up at her
sister, feeling the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle with fear. She
flinched as Nikia caressed her hair. She arched her neck, seeking to escape her
sister’s touch. She winced as Nikia’s nails dug into her scalp, restricting her
movement.
“It was lovely to meet you, sister.” Nikia
bowed her head and pressed her lips against Anca’s in a soft kiss. Then she
lifted her head and stepped away. She walked out of the dining room without
looking back.
Anca stared after her sister, disconcerted.
Nikia’s parting hadn’t seemed very…sisterly. She was distracted when Demi
touched her thigh. She smiled at him, struggling not to show her confusion.
“Pay Nikia little mind,” he said soothingly.
“She’s a turbulent woman.”
Valdemeer sighed. “She’s jealous of you,
Anca.”
She turned her head in her father’s
direction, noting Demi’s hand remained on her thigh. As he stroked in slow
circles, frissons of awareness darted through her leg. She shook her head.
“That makes no sense.”
If either of them had reason to be jealous,
it was she. After all, Nikia had lived with their father all her life, and had
obviously lived in luxury. She was a princess. It was doubtful she had ever
wanted for anything in her childhood, except maybe a mother. That was enough to
kill any envy Anca might feel, because she had a loving mother.
He sighed again, more deeply this time. He
toyed
sister.”
“Thank you.” She pulled her hands free from
her sister’s hold, resisting the urge to wipe them on her linen slacks. There
was something insincere about her façade, and Anca had the irrational urge to
wash her hands to cleanse them from Nikia’s touch.
Demi cleared his throat. “Shall we sit?”
Anca waited until Valdemeer and Nikia
selected seats before she walked to the one on her father’s left. She smiled at
Demi as he held the chair for her before taking the seat beside her.
She was bursting with questions, but she was
reluctant to voice any with Nikia present. Something in the woman’s eyes
paralyzed her tongue. Nikia was dangerous.
She blinked at the strange thought,
wondering where it came from. It hadn’t felt like a thought that flowed from
her mind naturally. Rather, it had seemed to hammer its way into her thoughts
abruptly.
Nikia was the first to break the awkward
silence once the servants filled golden goblets with dark-red wine and placed
soup before Anca, Demi, and Nikia. “How is your mother?” The question was
appropriate, but there was a sharp edge to her tone. “Is she still living?”
“Yes. She’s been ill.”
“Her heart?” Nikia asked blandly.
Anca’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
She lifted a thin shoulder. “One of the
servants mentioned your mother’s condition.”
She glanced at Demi with a frown. “News
travels fast here, doesn’t it?”
“Exceedingly.” Nikia drained her glass and
gestured to Geza, who stood by the doorway. He hurried forward to fill her
glass again. “Will she recover?”
“If she avoids stress and follows her
doctor’s orders.”
“It would be unfortunate if you returned to
New York to find she had passed away during your vacation.” Nikia clicked her
tongue softly. “You mustn’t tarry long here at Castle Draganescu.”
“She isn’t that ill.” Anca’s brow furrowed.
Was she imagining the trace of warning she heard in her sister’s voice?
Demi spoke up in a firm tone. “Nothing will
happen to Her Highness. His Majesty instructed me to leave a guard with her
while Anca was away, to ensure her well-being. They will have arrived by now.”
His eyes locked with Nikia’s, and there seemed to be a battle of wills.
Finally, Nikia blinked. “That is good news.”
She set down her goblet and pushed away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I
have no appetite this evening.” She nodded to Valdemeer and Demi before walking
around the table to stand beside Anca.
Anca turned her head and looked up at her
sister, feeling the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle with fear. She
flinched as Nikia caressed her hair. She arched her neck, seeking to escape her
sister’s touch. She winced as Nikia’s nails dug into her scalp, restricting her
movement.
“It was lovely to meet you, sister.” Nikia
bowed her head and pressed her lips against Anca’s in a soft kiss. Then she
lifted her head and stepped away. She walked out of the dining room without
looking back.
Anca stared after her sister, disconcerted.
Nikia’s parting hadn’t seemed very…sisterly. She was distracted when Demi
touched her thigh. She smiled at him, struggling not to show her confusion.
“Pay Nikia little mind,” he said soothingly.
“She’s a turbulent woman.”
Valdemeer sighed. “She’s jealous of you,
Anca.”
She turned her head in her father’s
direction, noting Demi’s hand remained on her thigh. As he stroked in slow
circles, frissons of awareness darted through her leg. She shook her head.
“That makes no sense.”
If either of them had reason to be jealous,
it was she. After all, Nikia had lived with their father all her life, and had
obviously lived in luxury. She was a princess. It was doubtful she had ever
wanted for anything in her childhood, except maybe a mother. That was enough to
kill any envy Anca might feel, because she had a loving mother.
He sighed again, more deeply this time. He
toyed
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