"Alaric is dead," Maravelle said, her voice flat.
"Is he?" Eryn lifted an eyebrow, as if she'd told a small joke.
Her fingers gripped the arm of her chair. Across the room, Nyalei tilted her head, watching her the way a deep-sea predator follows a wounded fish.
Maravelle's glare shifted to the mermaid. "And what does she have to do with this charade?" She pointed toward Nyalei.
"With her?" Eryn said as he took a slow sip of wine. "It's personal."
Nyalei laughed softly.
"Is that what we're calling it now?" she said. "Personal?"
Eryn set his goblet down. "And now, Queen Maravelle… do we have an agreement?"
Maravelle scoffed, her voice laced with venom. "You are utterly out of your mind."
"Don't rush it. Sleep on it. Give me an answer in the morning."
"I don't need to sleep on anything," she snapped. "My answer is no."
Eryn leaned back in his chair. "You have until sunrise. My offer vanishes with the morning light."
"And if I refuse?" she asked.
