Page 120 of Fate of the Sun King

Neither of us is able to relax as we wait in nervous dread. I perch stiffly on the edge of the sofa in the middle of the room while Nadir paces back and forth behind me.

After a minute, a door on the far side swings open, and I blink. There she is.

Silver hair pulled up into a high knot and bright blue eyes, her skin smooth with a quality that belies her age. She wears an expensive-looking dress of luxurious purple silk and pauses in the doorway, lifting her chin as we all scrutinize one another, sizing each other up like opponents facing off across a battlefield littered with dead bodies.

When her eyes fall on me, her nostrils flare delicately. Her expression reveals nothing, but I get the sense she’s holding in a torrent of repressed emotions.

She grips an ornately carved cane in her hand, and after another moment of silence, she takes a step, her knee hampering her movements. I remember how she’d limped away in the Woodlands Staff’s vision and assume this must be an injury from that day that never fully healed.

How much does she resent what my grandmother did? Has all of this been about revenge?

Cloris slowly proceeds across the floor as Nadir and I watch her. The clip and clop of her shoes echo hollowly against the room’s corners.

Then she stops in front of me and lets out a long breath.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she says. “You’ve grown up so much.”

Her voice holds no sense of the nostalgia usually accompanying that statement. It’s cold and assessing, as though she’s evaluating my mettle, trying to decide how much of a threat I pose.

“Well, it’s been over a decade,” I say, stating the obvious, to which she tips her chin.

“Indeed.”

I’m waiting for her to tell me I look like one of my grandparents or another sentiment that speaks of the past, but she says nothing, staring at me for so long that I’m starting to get uncomfortable.

Nadir has stopped pacing on the far side of the sofa, and we exchange a wary glance.

Keep our relationship a secret. The less she knows about either of us, the better.

Nadir’s voice enters my head, and I resist the urge to nod, worried that will give us away. He’s right. Nothing good can come of Cloris knowing who we are to one another.

“I would not have thought to find you two together,” Cloris says to Nadir at long last.

He doesn’t react, though I note the slight hardening of his jaw. “Why is that?”

Cloris tips her head, a dry smile crossing her lips as if to say Let’s not play games here.

Finally, she settles onto one of the chairs, resting her hands on the head of her cane and peering at me.

“What can I do for you, Lor?”

I don’t like this woman. Everything about her makes my skin crawl.

“Are you the one telling everyone who I am?”

Nadir sits down next to me but keeps his distance.

“I hardly think two people count as everyone,” she sneers.

“Why?” I ask, trying to sound detached and not like an angry rush of blood is making me dizzy. Like I’m in control of my emotions. But all I feel is an acrimonious sense of betrayal from someone I don’t even know. “Why would you do that to us?”

Cloris lets out a derisive laugh.

“My dear, it had nothing to do with you.”

“You ruined our lives,” I say, and there’s no mistaking the threat of tears in my voice. I can’t let her see me cry. “You took everything. Why?”

Cloris sits back and regards me with cool detachment. She really doesn’t care, but I need to know. I don’t seek contrition from her, nor do I expect it. What’s done is done. What I need are fucking answers.