Page 42 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin

Amir and Abishek both chuckled at her question.

“Zarya, Amir is from the finest noble family in Andhera. You probably noticed their estate overlooking the city. His father was my former commander and spent many years at my side. May the gods preserve his soul.”

Zarya looked at Amir. “I’m sorry,” she said, but he waved it off.

“I miss him every day, but it was many years ago, and though the loss never entirely goes away, the sting lessens over time.”

Amir then gestured to one of the gold-painted servants for a glass of wine. A woman scurried over and dipped into a curtsy as she held up the tray.

“But I lost a father many years ago, and it seems you have found one, Zarya,” Amir said. “How remarkable. The king shared some parts of your tale with me. How are you adjusting to this change in… station?”

“It’s all been pretty overwhelming,” she answered, noting the inflection on the word “station” as though she’d crawled out from a gutter covered in slime. “But I grew up thinking both of my parents were dead, and so it’s been a lot to adjust to.”

Amir smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “I can only imagine.” He sipped his wine, once again eyeing her, and she couldn’t help but feel like he was weighing and cataloging her assets. Or lack thereof.

“Your father tells me you enjoy reading,” he continued.

“Zarya has been spending many hours in my library,” Abishek said. “She’s a very powerful Aazheri. With her lineage, what else could she be?”

“Indeed,” Amir said.

“And Amir here,” Abishek continued. “He’s also a very talented Aazheri.”

“That’s… lovely,” Zarya said, her brow furrowing. Why did it feel like Abishek was trying… to sell Amir to her? Was he trying to set them up? Or was she missing some kind of social cue buried in subtext? Abishek hadn’t acted this way around anyone else. Did Amir know what was happening? Was she imagining how they were taking their cues from one another?

“I’ll leave you to it,” Abishek said. “Get to know one another. I’ll come and check on you in a bit.” And then, before Zarya could say anything else, Abishek turned and walked away, melting into the crowd.

Rabin stormed through the castle, his firm steps punishing the stones underfoot. He remained on edge and hated that he couldn’t figure out why. Everything was bothering him lately.

That party. Those people. The king. The way something kept nagging in the back of his thoughts.

He’d always had very good instincts and had learned long ago never to ignore that sixth sense until he could determine the source. But he had no clue what this was about.

Plus, he felt like shit.

Turning a corner, he approached the doors to Ekaja’s apartments. He wasn’t sure why a servant couldn’t have managed this errand, but he didn’t mind a break from the party. He hated leaving Zarya alone, but she could handle herself for a few minutes. He could see how enamored she was becoming with the king and saw so much of himself in her during his first years living in Andhera.

Ekaja never waited after knocking, and Rabin rarely offered her the courtesy, either. He rapped on the door and flung it open, storming into her room and coming to an abrupt halt. Now he understood the reason for Ekaja’s delay.

She was completely naked, her dark hair falling down her back as she straddled the face of another woman, her hips writhing and her back arched as she moaned and gasped. The woman beneath her had her arms wrapped around Ekaja’s firm thighs, eating her out with an admirable sort of enthusiasm.

Neither had noticed him yet.

He cleared his throat, but Ekaja continued moaning, her hips shifting back and forth as she ground her pussy into her companion’s mouth.

He tried again, louder this time, and then added, “Ekaja!”

Finally, she noticed him. Offering him a sidelong glance, she continued riding the woman’s face, keeping up her pace as she licked her lips and tossed him a coy look. He rolled his eyes. He was more than used to her antics.

“What?” she finally asked.

She had never been shy about flaunting her body, no matter the audience, but he always kept his gaze planted firmly above her neck.

“The king wants you at the party.”

She returned his eye roll and then resumed fucking the woman’s face. “I’m busy.”

“Ekaja,” he growled, his voice dropping low.