Lucas stared intently at her. "Why do you immediately assume I'd take Prince Tobin's side?"
"Well, wouldn't you? He's your friend, isn't he?"
"I wouldn't describe the two of us as friends, exactly." He crossed his arms and Celia saw the muscles in his jaw tick. "He's my future king and I'm his subject. That doesn't make us friends, Your Grace."
Celia sniffed and looked away, remembering the first time she'd seen Lord Nadrim at a dinner banquet, where he'd been talking and laughing easily with Tobin. "Call your relationship what you want. Friends, kinsmen, whatever. I don't see why we're labouring over a useless point."
"Kinsmen?" Lucas's expression suddenly darkened and his eyes turned an even deeper grey. "So you know about my ties to Tobin…and His Majesty, then?"
"Oh, that. Yes, Sarai told me your father's an illegitimate son of the king. Does it bother you that I know?"
