I moved through the palace corridors, reached the door, and shoved it open.
Darkness swallowed the room—and not only because the curtains remained drawn. Something heavier. Furniture lay shrouded in black sheets, a faint crimson glow seeping from beneath the fabric. Animal skulls merged with snakeskins along the walls.
And that was only what the dim light revealed.
I swallowed the shudder and crossed the receiving room, yanking the curtains wide. Dust floated through the air as sunlight poured in.
Alea grimaced at the macabre decor, then pressed her lips together and met my gaze.
“Tell me,” I said as the Threshers closed the door.
“I don’t mean to make it more than it is.” She winced. “She hasn’t been compromised, Your Majesty.”
The words stoked my anger. As though only stolen innocence deserved rage.
I reined myself in, softening my tone, hands clasped before me. “What happened?”
“It’s known that Bac’phares favors young women. His wife would never tolerate a bastard, but his attention can be… difficult.”
Alea was my age, perhaps a year older. The way she spoke suggested she also suffered hisaffections. I raised my brows and waited.
“It’s little more than lingering looks, or seeking girls out to accompany him. Accidental touches.” Her mouth tightened. “It’s always something excusable—an older man remembering his youth.”
“But it’s not,” I said.
She met my glare, worrying her lip. “I can’t condemn him for the company he keeps.”
Bac was powerful. Calculated. Without overt action, I had no grounds to fry him like cod. This was one of those moments Kallias would temper his fury, trust instinct, and wait.
But I was not Kallias.
“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile. “He’ll return to his district once we’re finished. Please tell Ish’neer she’s free from his attentions. If he asks after any of the girls, send for me instead.”
No one would make the heirs uneasy after everything they endured under Tallon’s brief reign.
“As you wish. Is there anything else, Your Majesty?”
“Only that you keep me informed of their needs.” I shook my head. “They’ve suffered enough. If I can ease this wait, I will.”
“You already have. I’ll send word if I learn more.”
“Thank you.”
I waited until she left before letting my gaze wander.
Crimson overlaid one obsidian wall; its design reminded me of a blood-red spider’s web. Bones and skulls hung from the walls, and my stomach churned at the sight of so much death.
I was no stranger to skeletons. The dragon’s nest had been my playground; fish bones were my first toys. But this—here in Radaan? How could Kallias ever have married someone like her?
He wouldn’t have. Even as a young man, there was no conceivable way.
Dust coated the draped furniture, and I peeled back a sheet, folding it to keep the grit contained. Beneath lay a sofa of dark wood, red cushions embroidered in deeper crimson.
Did she favor only two colors?
Bitterness rose as I uncovered more. This was not a woman Kallias married, but someone he endured—someone who changed while bound to him. What cruelty lived in a marriage that warped with time? To vow to one person only for them to become another.
I walked through the room, bile rising in my throat at the painting of Kallias on the wall. Shadows shaded his figure, making him appear smaller, slightly slumped. The mantle on his shoulders sat askew, worn with time. Weakness lingered in his eyes—a silent plea.
