Page 30 of Bride of Ash & Dust

But it’s more than that. Blayne is a piece of home, a small part of my former life. If he’s here, perhaps I haven’t lost everything.

We walk in through a side door and down the hallway that I now realize is smaller and tighter than the ones on the higher floors. I pause before the closed door that leads to the snake’s room. Anura turns to me.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” she says, raising her voice at the end so it sounds like a question. “Unless you want me to stay?”

“No,” I say. “That really won’t be necessary.”

She nods, a little gesture of agreement, then turns away and disappears down the hallway. I take a deep breath before pushing open the door.

Blayne sits at the table by the window, his head bent over something. He comes to his feet as the door swings open. Light dances across his full lips as he smiles at me.

“My dear Lilias,” he says, walking toward me. “Gods, I’ve missed you.”

I let the door slam closed behind me and fall into his arms.

Chapter 18

Zarek

DON’T EXPECT PRIVACY

Ifeel like death warmed over.

My body screams in protest after riding for six days, and that damn cut on my inner thigh still hasn’t properly healed. I did stop at the royal baths before coming here, so at least I no longer smell like the back end of a horse, but I also stared at my reflection long enough to know I’ve looked better.

And she deserves better. That thought’s been chewing at my insides since I rose with the thin red dawn this morning and realized I’d have to face my wife before that sun goes down.

We still haven’t even had a conversation.

She spent our wedding night puking and sobbing, out of her mind on drugs, while I got plastered and passed out in the feast hall. And then I left. For a week.

Shit, this marriage is off to a terrible start.

But what did I expect? King Malrik wasn’t trying to do me any favors when he picked the princess of Marion as my wife. He wanted a claim on their new gold mine, and I was the easiest means to that end. He doesn’t give a flying fuck if the two of us hate each other.

So why does it matter to me?

I hesitate just outside the door to my new quarters. She might not be in here, of course. Hells, I almost hope she’s at the stables. Telling Alia to give her all of my privileges was a rather pathetic attempt at an apology for the disaster of our wedding night, but gods, what else is she supposed to do around here? Petrys said she likes horses⁠—

I reach for the door handle.

And then I freeze.

Some whisper of intuition raises the hair on my neck. I rock backward. I’ve learned to listen to that little whisper; it’s saved my life.

I hold my breath and close my eyes. It’s there, so soft I almost missed it.

Another voice, from the other side of the door. A man’s voice.

I grind my teeth and step away from the door. My hand traces the edge of the hallway wainscotting. The trigger for the secret passageway is all but invisible. I run my fingers down the catch, then press.

The door slides open, revealing a tight, dusty passage. I step inside, and the door swings shut behind me, leaving me in near-total darkness. A single light flickers in the gloom; the sun, streaming through the mirror that hangs on the wall opposite my bed.

I creep through the passageway, wondering who was the last person to use this little spyhole. Probably Hussen, making sure our marriage was consummated. I wonder what he thought of my wife puking over the side of the bed after I pretended to fuck her, then decide I really don’t want to know.

My gut pulls tight as I approach the mirror. I hear their voices now, Lilias and someone else, talking high and fast like they’re both excited. Some stupid flicker of hope whispers that maybe it’s her brother.

But I know better. Even before I reach the mirror, I know who it has to be. Petrys said she’s fucking her tutor, didn’t he?