The king greeted us more like old friends than envoys from his enemy.
“You are weary! Rest. Tomorrow we’ll talk.”
Rada turned her blue eyes on me as we parted, led to our separate quarters, where fire and wine waited. I slept too long. Rising in panic, I was taken to the king in his dining room, which smelled deliciously of stewed meat.
“Dine with me!”
I ate, the slow-cooked flesh dissolving on my tongue.
“Where is—?”
“The other spy?” He grinned, raising the lid on a small dish near my elbow, from which glared two bloodied blue eyes.
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