Page 87 of Queen of War and Ruin

I shiver. He drops my face, then wipes his hand on his black cloak like he’s just touched something dirty.

“My last pupil had a smart mouth too,” Varitan says in an icy voice. “I cut out his eye.”

“Gods,” I whisper. “That’s lovely.”

“He is lovely,” Varitan says, with a strange look in his pale eyes. “He’s my son.”

Chapter 45

Lilias

STILL ALIVE

Blayne keeps me waiting all day.

At some point, the older woman brings me lunch on a tray. She comes back later to take the dishes away, leaving me standing at the window, staring down at the narrow courtyard behind Blayne’s house. There’s a little tree in that courtyard, and a collection of pots holding herbs and flowers. I watch the shadows creep across the courtyard, and I wonder if this has always been Blayne’s house, or if it belonged to someone else before him. Someone who fell out of favor with King Malrik, perhaps.

The window is too high to jump out of, although I might be able to climb down. If I had a rope. I stare at the sheets on the bed for a long time, wondering if I could tie them together.

But then what would I do, if I managed to climb out of the window without breaking any bones? Run directly to the palace? Kick the door down and demand to see Zarek?

A bitter laugh slips through my lips. That would go well, I’m sure.

No. Sneaking out of here won’t get me far. I have to convince Blayne to take me to the palace himself for a legitimate visit. We’d go to the palace stables, ideally. And then I could talk to Alia. Out of everyone in the palace, she might know what in the nine hells is going on.

Which means I have to play nice. I have to be charming long enough to convince Blayne to take me to the palace.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

Shadows stretch across the entire courtyard by the time the woman knocks on my door, then slides the lock open. I stop pacing and stare at the open door.

“It’s time,” she says.

I stand, twisting my hands in the soft fabric of my dress.

Charming. I can be charming.

She leads me to the ground floor, then opens a door to what must be the nicest room in this narrow little house. Blayne sits at a massive desk with rolls of parchment spread before him. The walls behind him are lined with neatly organized bookcases, not a single volume out of place.

He glances up when I enter, then waves his hand at a table near the door. The bitter scent of his contraceptive tea stings my nostrils.

“Drink that,” he says.

“There’s no need,” I reply, with a polite nod.

He laughs, a sharp, bitter sound.

“Right,” he says. “No need. When the gods only know how many people you had to fuck to get away.”

My mouth falls open. My cheeks sting like he just slapped me.

“Drink it,” he says in a sharper voice. “Everything rides on the child your womb will carry. And I will be damned certain it’s mine.”

“I mean,” I begin, my voice shaking. “There’s no need, because I’m already bleeding.”

And it’s true. I’m bleeding because I cut my thigh with Zarek’s dagger after I got out of the bath, then pressed my old petticoat against the blood. I left the blood-stained cloth draped over the chair next to the tub, utterly impossible to miss. Because I assumed Blayne would try to force that damned poison on me.

Blayne looks past me like I’m not even here. “Doloros,” he calls. “To me.”