Why did he ask?Ragnar knew what she would say; since they met, he had only spoken through blood and violence.How could she possibly see through that?
He was a man of little faith, but the faith was there nonetheless.
Azul grinned at him.The sunlight caught the gold in her eyes, elevating her status above the mortal realm.
"No," she said softly, her voice clear."I do not.This time, the man is infinitely greater than his title."
She was only saying words he wished to hear; he knew that.He knew she was wrapping him around her finger, pulling at the reins around his neck, forcing him to see her and her alone.
And yet.
Her trap was sweeter than honey, so he failed to resist.
Perhaps his first mistake was ever looking into her eyes; he supposed ever since then, his heart had no choice but to yield.
The air between them had shifted again, merging with something warmer and more dangerous than the evening chill.Ragnar’s gaze was locked on hers, lost in the molten gold."Your eyes, are exquisite."The eyes of death.
They widened at his words, glistening in the setting sunlight, and for a moment he considered what it would feel like to kiss her.
She smiled."Then admire it for as long as our contract stands."She turned toward the shrine.
"Khatun."
She looked back.
Ragnar held out his hand.In his palm lay her silver hairpin—the one she'd used to stay conscious, to resist Somadina, and to mark her own skin rather than accept his touch.
"I found this," he said."I thought you might want it back."
She took it, not bothering to point out his blatant lie.Their fingers brushed, sending electricity through his veins.
"Thank you," she said."And, I know you worship Ukhel.If you like, you can pray at the shrine.The gods know I won’t."
He looked at her.She said her fate was not good, and yet he felt she was well guarded by her chi.He reached for her hand and brought her wrists to his mask.
"Have a lovely evening, Khatun."
His eyes glanced to the top right corner, to the tops of the surrounding trees.Azul tried not to look lest they find her performance lacking.
Chapter 18
TheLibraryoftheBorjigin sat at the heart of the palace complex, a domed structure made of carved stone and processed wood that had survived three centuries of succession wars, fires, and the occasional neglect of Igwes who did not care for the arts.Its doors were open to scholars, priests, and male members of the royal household.Women were not explicitly forbidden, but custom made their visitation unwelcome.
Azul stood before those doors, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes upon her back.
The morning sun had barely cleared the walls, but the courtyard before the library already bustled with activity.Scholars hurried past with armloads of parchment, and young nobles, sent by their fathers to acquire the education that would serve them in court, loitered near the entrance, waiting for their tutors to arrive.
All of them had stopped to stare at her.
"Can I help you?"The question came from a young man near the doors—barely twenty, with sharp cheekbones and an unimpressed expression.He wore the simple robes of a student, a kaftan fashioned like the scholars of Kemet, but his bearing suggested noble blood.
Azul smiled, trying not to clench her robes."I require access to the library."
The young scholar's eyebrows rose.
"The library?"he repeated.
"Yes."
