“She is my zisdemyoz and first-in-command of my warriors. There is not a single Magyki on this island who exceeds her skill.” He shot Taeral a secretive smile before breaking his gaze away, adding, “Though her niece is an acceptable second.”

Vera cleared her throat, not sure if he meant that as a dig toward Reniya or not, and she was more than a little uncomfortable. Guess his fondling at least answered her question of whether Taeral was in some form of relationship with her father.

According to the history she knew and understood, only her bloodline, the Arenaris bloodline, could assume the throne. So, she wasn’t really sure what to make of it. He’d introduced Taeral as his guardian, not his wife, so maybe they were just…casual companions? She shuddered, shoving that thought very, very far away.

King Vesstan continued, oblivious to the storm of questions brewing in her mind. “And, of course, the male who just exited is Onas Dornelin. He’s one of Naris’s best historians, and a new private advisor of mine.”

She nodded absently. The historian part made sense, given the huge armful of scrolls and texts he’d been carrying in the library, but an advisor? The male was a walking nervous breakdown.

King Vesstan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and laced his fingers under his chin, considering her.

“He told me you go by Vera, but that is not your name. Is that something the humans called you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, trying not to physically react to the way he’d said the humans.

“Hm. And you allowed them to shorten your formal title in such a way?”

Allowed? Did he not realize she’d been a child? But then she realized, he might not. Her father had no idea what she’d been doing all these years, so for all he knew, she’d been much older when she set foot on Aleron.

“I suppose, Your Majesty. I was very young. It was my mentor who called me that.” She smiled at the memory. Elric loved telling that story. “He said my full name was too—”

“You can call me Vesstan when we are in private company, Veralie,” he said, waving a hand and enunciating her full name.

She started, taken aback by his blatant interruption. “Oh. All right,” she muttered, feeling Jaren’s hand wrap around her thigh and squeeze.

Vesstan’s eyes latched on to the movement, his expression unreadable as he sat back, grabbing his glass of wine and taking a drink. “So, what can you tell me about Emperor Sulian? Did you meet his heir?”

She froze, midway through brushing a rogue curl back from her face. What? Why would he ask about Eithan?

He seemed intrigued by her silence, as if it answered for her, but Taeral straightened, her lip pressed thin in a look of hatred that Vera was beginning to think was permanently etched there. “I’m curious why you appear so surprised that your king would ask that.”