“You remember that?”
“It was the first time I really noticed you.” His head tilted. “You weren’t mine. But even so, knowing you remembered my body well enough to sketch it brought a small thrill.”
“I burned that one too.” I laughed. “But your chest was seared into my mind. I never stood a chance.”
He leaned in to kiss me, then veered aside at the last moment. “Feel free to draw me whenever you wish—”
His breath warmed my ear.
“—In whatever position you desire.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kallias
Shame and humiliation simmered beneath my skin, damning my conscience as we strode from the queen’s rooms. Nienna’s grip on my arm was firm, a tether reminding me she was here with me.
She wasn’t disgusted.
After the meeting with the noblemen—and taking Verad’gog’s life—I’d gone searching for her. I craved her presence, her company, before I sought Elohios’ guidance. When a servant mentioned she’d been seen entering the queen’s rooms, my mind didn’t register the magnitude of that statement.
What I left there.
It was easier to leave it buried, to let the memory rot and fade behind doors I never intended to open. But with Nienna here, it was only a matter of time before she claimed those rooms. Ghosts stirred, their creeping chill piercing the guard around my mind.
Knowing why I abandoned Eldeiade’s chambers, never intending to cross that threshold again, didn’t soften the blowwhen I heard Nienna moving within the bowels of that darkness—aware there were things I never wanted her to see.
And yet, she saw.
A flush climbed my neck. Why had I allowed Eldeiade to commission such a painting? Because it kept her occupied—and I was a coward. It confined her to her chambers. As long as it remained there, it was tolerable. Why had I permitted her any freedom at all? To keep her from meddling in my affairs, to prevent ever being in the same room as her.
My previous marriage was messy. Brutal. I hadn’t been kind, and neither had she. It was a union bound in hatred, each memory clawing at my gut—the years of torture now meaningless. All the visits, all the endurance to sire an heir—only for some Velli to slip in and breed a bastard under my roof. My sacrifice meant nothing.
“Kallias.”
Nienna breathed my name, tugging me from my thoughts, her hand pressing against my arm.
I blinked, shaking off the sting of vulnerability—having her witness my flaws, settling for a broken man.
“How did the council go?” Her voice carried no hesitation, a gentle tug toward fresher topics.
“I killed Verad’gog.”
Gods, it just fell out. Where was my tact?
She pressed her lips together, nodding. “He would not bow?”
“No.” I exhaled, scanning the hall. Only Claus and Greaves trailed us. “He was destined to be a martyr for Tallon’s cause. I let him claim that honor.”
“And Bac’phares?”
I frowned. Had she known he was here? “His words are vicious, but his spine is cotton. Limp, pliant. He bent the knee.”
She hummed, thoughtful, glaring into the distance as we entered the courtyard.
“Is there something I should know?” My voice dropped, longing for the privacy of my chambers. My back stiffened as I swept the surroundings. Not the place for open talk of treason, yet these weren’t the times to dither when justice demanded swift hand.
“Oh, I’ll not burden you now. Perhaps later.” She shrugged, shifting focus to the line of temples ahead. Her fingers brushed my bicep, hesitating. “The last time I was here was with Fyrn.”
