She should be back by now, on her knees, begging for my forgiveness. She’ll see how easy it can be once she gives herself to me completely. I’ll prove to her that I’mbetterthan him—that I’m everything she’s ever dreamed of—and she will love me for it.
Trulylove me.
Footsteps approach from behind, and my doorman clears his throat. “High Master, the High Septum is here to see you.”
My heart skips a beat. “Send her in. Make sure I have no more interruptions until she leaves.”
He dips his head and scampers off, and I turn my attention to the table of refreshments, smooth the gray tablecloth draped across the stone, then restraighten the plates, bowls, and utensils. Shuffling footsteps approach, and I frown, spinning to see the High Septum limping onto my balcony, the folds of her gray robe ruffling in the light wind.
Scenting blood, I hurry forward and take her arm. “Heira, what have you done to yourself?”
She looks up at me from beneath the shadow of her hood, passing me a tight smile that etches lines at the corners of her purple star-burst eyes. “I’ve taken to wearing a metal spur around my thigh until I hunt down Shadow’s Hand. I want tofeelthe passing of each day, as everyone will surely feel the consequences if I do not succeed.”
I swallow my urge to tell her I think that’s a fucking terrible idea.
“I’m certain the Gods note your servitude,” I bite out instead, escorting her toward one of the two chairs set around the square table, dashing a napkin over her knees. I take the other seat, rolling my sleeves. “Refreshment?”
“Tea, please.” She sweeps back her hood, pulling long, loose, golden locks over her shoulder, the tangled length shot through with silver streaks that bounce the sunlight—a salute to her age that her relatively smooth skin does well at concealing.
My fingers itch to brush it.
Braid it.
To tame it into something less wild and unruly.
“And a scone,” she continues, eyeing up the bowl lumped with a swirl of cream. “Oh, Cainon.Clotted cream?I haven’t been able to get my hands on any for months.”
I offer an indulgent smile. “Only the best for you. I had the cook fold vanilla through it. I know it’s your favorite.”
She pats my cheek, eyes aglitter. “You’re too good to me.”
“Never.”
She pulls the ornate soft-bristle hairbrush from the folds of her cloak, then sets it on the table between us, letting her hand rest upon the handle. My heart pounds as I pour her tea and prepare two plates of scones capped with a dollop of cream, gaze nipping at the brush.
Her hand.
With a knowing glint in her eye, she lets it go, then looks out across the ocean rumpled by the warm breeze, giving me an unhindered view of her tousled locks. She tips her face to the sun—the skies clear but for a few slow-moving tufts of clouds. “The Gods blessed us with a beautiful day.” Opening an eye, she asks, “Would you not usually spend it offshore?”
“Not today.” I set the scone before her, glancing at the brush again. “Too much on my mind. Are the preparations in order for the coupling ceremony? I’m looking forward to seeing which creature Orlaith chose.”
“From what I understand, yes.” She lifts a brow. “And with the clearing of the skies, I believe the Gods favor this union.”
Hopefully.
I stir a cube of sugar through my tea. “Have you picked the Impurists?”
“Indeed,” she says tightly. “My daughter would have had the great honor, but she opted to take her oath before the stones. I shipped her off this morning.”
The punch of pride is potent in her tone.
Dragging my spoon along the cup’s lip, I look up. “Oh?”
“Finally, after all these years. She even had the third eye carved,” she boasts, gesturing to the raw mark between her eyes with a flick of her hand. “I had mine deepened at the same time.”
With a slight tilt of my head, I offer her a small smile, looking at her scone that’s yet to be touched—the cream beginning to yellow and melt from the sun’s fierce heat. Clearing my throat, I pluck a grape from the bowl of fruit and toss it in my mouth, relishing the way it pops beneath my piercing teeth. “Why the sudden change?”
Gael never struck me as one to follow her mother’s footsteps, and their strained relationship never threatened me before.
