Yet he expects me to call him by it, like we’re somehow…friends.
Souls. If I didn’t think he was insane before, I certainly do now.
I will never call him by his name. He deserves nothing but the title of murderer.
When I don’t respond, he turns in his chair to face the chessboard.
“It’s your move,” he says.
I glare at him.
“Don’t keep me waiting, Jewel,” he sighs, the wood of the chair groaning under his weight as he shifts. “The sooner you make your move, the sooner I’ll leave you in peace.”
“Peace,” I scoff as I trudge to the chessboard. “I’m surprised you even know what that word means.”
I pull out the chair and sit across from him. His eyes lift, meeting mine, but then they wander. They take me in, the brown hair cascading down my back, the red ribbon looped around my wrist, the blue silk dress, lighter than air, slipping off my shoulders with long, flimsy veils that cascade down my arms. It clings tight below my bust, flaring out, but even so, the bump of my belly is obvious.
His eyes linger there longer than I like, and I shift uncomfortably under his gaze. He notices, his focus snapping back to my eyes.
“How are you… feeling?”
“Fine,” I answer curtly, my gaze drifting over the chess pieces as I think through my move.
Where his voice had once been hard and demanding, now it’s softer, hesitant, as if he’s struggling to find words. “Do you need anything?”
I glance up at him with a frown. “I said I’m fine.”
His palm rubs roughly over his knee. “I don’t know what happens in these situations.”
“Well, maybe you should have thought twice before kidnapping a pregnant woman,” I snap, tilting my head, letting my glare sharpen.
“I didn’t know you were pregnant. Neither did Anethesis. It was an unexpected development.”
“Well, you weren’t the only one who was surprised,” I reply, my chest tightening as my eyes lock on the black rook.
At first, I assumed that was why they took me. Because I carried the child of Prince Daedalus Phaedren. That they would demand some sort of twisted ransom. But I was wrong. I tried to keep it a secret when I realized they did not know, but in the last few weeks, when my bump refused to be hidden, it gave me away.
Now it feels like they do not know what to do with me, as if my child is not leverage but a burden to whatever plans they have. All I know is that they leave me alone moreoften now, and apart from the maid who brings my food and Anethesis and his endless questions, I barely see any Fae. It’s almost as if they are frightened of me.
Good. Whatever keeps them away is welcome.
I pinch the rook between my fingers, my tongue peeking out the corner of my mouth involuntarily as I think. I hear a laugh under his breath.
“What?” I snap, irritation lacing my voice.
He squares his shoulders and coughs, clearing his throat. “Nothing. Can you hurry up? I’ll die of old age at this rate.”
I glare at him, my response sharp. “Then I’ll take my time.”
He growls low in his throat, his fist clenching. “Just hurry up.”
I make my move, sliding the black rook across the board with a decisive flick.
The Golden Son leans back, a grin tugging at his lips as he watches me. “Interesting.”
I watch him study the board, his eyes fixed on the pieces, his body tense as he thinks.
“What will you do with me?” I ask bluntly. “Do I die today?”
