She picked up her own fork and tried the fish first. Then she studied the mussels.

“Like this,” Damien said, picking up a mussel from his own plate. He split open the shell, dug the meat out with his fork, then dipped it in the broth bowl.

“Fascinating,” Selene murmured as she followed his instructions.

Damien popped the mussel into his mouth and chewed while he observed Selene. He spotted Taegis covertly watching the whole procedure next to him with a small smile on his lips.

She dipped the mussel into the broth, then tentatively brought it to her mouth. She chewed slowly, then swallowed.

“Well?” Damien asked.

“It’s . . . different. Like a light and fluffy mushroom, only it tastes like . . .”

“The sea,” Damien finished.

“Is that it?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly as she reached for her other mussel. “Yes, I do.”

Damien smiled as he placed the empty shells on a nearby plate, dipped his hands in the wash water, then moved on to the crab. As the meal went on, platters of bread were brought around for sopping up broth, and goblets were refilled. Conversation filled the room, with glances sent toward the head of the table every now and then. Most of the looks were tolerable politeness, but there were a few who appeared to be as captivated with Selene as he felt.

Damien stopped, his bread halfway to his mouth, the temperature in his body rising, suddenly aware of what he had just thought. He glanced at Selene out of the corner of his eye. She was finishing the fish on her plate and talking quietly with one of the councilors—Isak from the lesser house of Norred—who was sitting next to her.

Surely it was right to be enamored with one’s own wife, wasn’t it?

Damien stared down at the piece of bread, strongly aware of his own heart beating.

Dinner finished up shortly after. Damien stood to excuse himself. Between these new burgeoning thoughts of his and lingering weakness from his recent fever, he didn’t want to stay and talk.

Selene looked up at him, and he felt like he had stumbled off a walkway. “Are you leaving?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, grateful his voice didn’t crack. “I’m afraid I’m not quite myself yet.”

Selene stood and gathered her gown. “May I go with you? I feel the same way.”

He could see it all over her face that she did not want to be left alone in a room full of strangers. He extended his arm and smiled, his heart suddenly full. “Of course.”

Turning, he addressed the room. “Good night, everyone.” He bowed his head, and the rest did likewise.

Damien led Selene around the room to the exit and walked out into the cooler corridor. “I stopped by your room today, but you were with the seamstress. I had hoped to show you the sea. I remember how enchanted you were when I spoke of my homeland.”