17
Kiria
Kiria shoved a large bite of soft-boiled egg in her mouth, too preoccupied to realize it was unladylike until afterward.
Amir Parohim gave her an imperious look veiled as concern. She met his glance, daring him to comment, and turned away. Candles lined the center of the grand table, the soft light flickering. Despite the hour, this room was still dark. A freshness in the air and the bags under Jori’s eyes spoke of the morning, but here, in this windowless banquet hall, time seemed to stop.
Cúron’s familiar, booming laugh sounded a few seats down. Since news of their victory broke, it was as though a bottle had been unstopped. Guards smiled and clapped each other on the shoulder as they went to their posts. Jori kept Kiria updated on all the extra parties in the city. Rejoicin
