"How terrifying," he whispered, but there was no one conscious enough to hear him.
Chapter 6
Theopenpoolsofthe Palace of Kemet caught the afternoon light like scattered jewels, their turquoise waters shimmering against white stone.Palm fronds whispered in the hot breeze, and the scent of lotus blossoms hung heavy in the air, sweet and almost oppressive.
Caius Zarnok reclined against the polished edge of the largest pool, his arms spread along the rim, his head tilted back as slender hands massaged oils into his skin.The women surrounding him were beautiful.Handpicked from the Great Royal Wife herself—princesses and noble daughters given as gifts, tributes, and bargaining chips.They draped themselves across the pool's edge and through the water like ornaments, their laughter like tubular bells, their eyes trailing him, their prey.
"Lord Zarnok," one slurred, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest, "you are too still.Are you not enjoying the water?"
"On the contrary."His voice was low, smooth as aged wine."I am enjoying it immensely."
His hair floated around him in the water—long and impossibly white against his tanned skin.When he opened his eyes, they caught the light and held it—stunning grey with a blue so pale they seemed almost otherworldly.
The youngest princess gasped softly."My Lord, your eyes are beautiful, like those of a Djinn," she whispered to her companion.
Caius’s lips curved slightly, but he said nothing.
A servant approached the pool's edge, bearing a silver tray.Upon it lay a single folded letter, sealed with wax the colour of dried blood.
Caius lifted one hand from the pool, water sluicing down his arm, and took the letter.He broke the seal with his nail guards and unfolded it.
His eyes moved across the page.
The women watched him, their chatter falling silent.They knew better than to interrupt when a man of high standing read their correspondence.
A moment passed peacefully, chatter from the bustling city below rising.
Caius laughed.An enchanting, rich sound, warm as the sun on the water, yet somehow chilling in its genuine amusement.
"What is it, my Lord?"The princess who had called him a 'Djinn' found her courage first."What amuses you so?"
He looked at her, and for a moment she forgot to breathe.
"I've heard something interesting," he said."It seems the Great Khan has intentions of taking another bride."
The women erupted into laughter.
"The Great Khan of the Valthorne?"one echoed, her voice dripping with mockery."Cursed of Ukhel?"
"Five bodies seemed not to satisfy him after all.They say the last one didn't even make it to the wedding night—she fell from her horse and broke her neck on the journey."
"Perhaps the horse was trying to save her," the youngest princess offered, and the others dissolved into giggles.
Caius watched them, his expression mild, his eyes still warm with amusement.He made no move to stop their mockery.Rather, he seemed to encourage it, his silence a permission slip for their cruelty.
"How long will this one last?"the first woman asked, settling more comfortably against the pool's edge."I wager she doesn't reach the Steppes."
"A month," another offered."She'll take one look at that disfigurement and drop dead of fright."
"Generous.I say two weeks."
"Three months if she's clever.Though what clever woman would agree to marry the Punishment of Ukhel?"
They placed their bets like courtiers at a cockfight, each prediction more creative and more vicious than the last.
Caius let them talk.He had learned long ago that women who felt clever were women who felt loyal, and loyal women were useful.It was best they think his amusement stemmed from the same source as theirs—the absurdity of a cursed warlord seeking yet another bride to add to his collection of corpses.
When the laughter died down, he reached for the letter again, returning it to the silver tray.
