Hedoeshave a weakness for her.
I take another bite, chewing through my words. “She loves me. I’ll prove it to you at dinner tonight. You can see just how happy she is, then you can fuck off back to Ocruth. I’ll send the ships once our coupling is sealed.”
The sailors ready the sail. Rhordyn’s words spear out the moment we jerk forward and crack away from the pier. “Feels like you’re in a rush to get rid of me.”
“Or ...” I toss the core, and it clatters across the pier as wind drums at the bulging sails, “perhaps you’re just looking for an excuse to start a war and snatch my land for yourself. You do, after all, seem oh so invested in how it should be run.”
He continues to hunt me with those unnerving eyes as we drift further apart, making for the mouth of the scalloped bay. Perhaps he realizes I have him by the throat. Perhaps not. Either way, I have no intention of rushing this process.
I’ve been looking forward to watching himsquirm.
With wet, straggly hair hanging heavily down my back, I slam another door closed and stalk the lofty corridor, wearing tender bruises on my hips and elbows like the war wounds they are. I thrashed myself against the edge of The Bowl for hours, earning nothing but a few scathing remarks from Elder Creed that planted bitter seeds in my chest.
I shake my head, teeth gritted as I round a corner, walking into a pretty maid carrying a stack of folded towels that tumble to the polished, blue-stone floor with a softwhump.
“Oh my! I’m so sorry, Mistress.” She bobs a curtsey, cheeks pinked as she bends to gather them up with hurried hands. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”
“No, it’s fine. It was my fault.” I fold a towel, stacking it on top of her re-forming pile. “You don’t know where I might find the library, do you?”
I can’t sneak to the city during the daytime to hunt for Madame Strings, but I refuse to sit idle. I need to find a book that can tell me something—anything—about myself.
Preferably in a language I understand.
She shakes her head, dashing tawny hair off her face as she looks at me. “I’m new, Mistress. I haven’t come across one …”
Damn.
“Thank you, anyway.”
Another tight curtsey, and she continues on her way.
Bag tucked close to my side, I open a gold-brushed door to another bright, breezy, spotless guest bedroom, disappointment dropping into my belly like a stone. “This is ridiculous,” I mutter, charging toward a door on the opposite side of the hallway and opening it, slamming it shut when I see a perfectly made bed. “I just want a damnlibrary.”
Turning a corner, my gaze grabs a much larger door on the right, cast ajar, bracketed by blazing wall sconces. My heart lurches, a tug in my chest luring me forward, and I check over my shoulder before placing my hand on the door and pushing it open further.
More sconces give flickering, golden life to a flight of stairs that digs downward, and I cradle the spark in my chest that ignites whenever I’ve stumbled upon something interesting.
The hem of my skirt hampers my descent, and I curse the ridiculous thing. Hoisting it to mid-calf, I hasten my pace, and follow the spiral, spitting out in a long, narrow, dusty corridor sparsely lit by a sprinkle of wall torches—so different from the rest of the palace. Even the ground is different, the stone aged and scuffed and chipped in places.
My eyes widen, stare panning right, hungering over the countless tapestries lining the walls, leaving only slivers of stone between the vibrant masterpieces.
Excitement bubbles in my chest.
There are big ones, small ones. Some that make me want to tilt my head to fully grasp their concept, while others look so real, I want to dive into their woven depths. Enter another realm.
Become somebody else.
I swing my gaze to the left—
Shit.
Heart rioting like a caged beast, I flatten against the wall.
He didn’t sense me.
Didn’t sense me.
Didn’t—
