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She was an Adriel.
They were born rivals, blood enemies.
Except that he’d wanted her the whole time.
29
XERXES
The morning was warm and bright, light filtering into Xerxes’s room through a crack between the curtains. He headed over to check the mountains, then got dressed, sliding his signet ring onto his forefinger and eyeing his hair in the faded mirror. He decided to forgo his robe of nobility and settled on a silk jacket instead. His crown glittered as he placed it carefully atop his wispy dark hair and clipped an earring to his left lobe, then he studied himself. His deep tan from the desert was starting to fade, but truly, he looked alright even on the days he was decorated with nothing but a bathrobe or an old, stretched tunic. He smiled as he turned away from the mirror.
Xerxes saw no one out in the garden, so after the organizers had talked him half to death at the morning meeting, he fled outside and stood below a particular window. He scooted behind a large shrub of white blossoms that hid him well, and he waited there.
A bug flew by, and he swatted at it. Then some critter ran over his boot, and he kicked it off in disgust.
“What are you doing out here, Your Majesty?”
Xerxes yelped and spun to find a woman there. Long, loose red hair swept down her arms, and a sparkling silver gown made her glitter over a set of bright green eyes that looked back at him. He blinked at her a few times before he remembered where he’d seen her before. She flashed him a smile, and it finally hit him.
“You’re the Heartstealer who promised I’d have nothing to worry about with you,” he said, thinking of her introduction. He had no idea what her name was. He eyed how she walked around him, standing right out in the open. She was going to give away his hiding spot.
Xerxes glanced up at the window again. The tall palace wall remained empty, and he sighed. It wasn’t like Ryn would risk climbing down the wall again anyway unless she had a reason to. His mouth twisted. He’d really been looking forward to catching her though. She could only keep herself from this garden for so long.
The unimportant maiden beside Xerxes inched in, nearly brushing against him as she reached for a flower that was an exact replica of at least seven other flowers that were much closer to her. She plucked it and brought it to her nose to sniff it. Xerxes watched in revulsion.
Was this how women flirted? He wanted to die.
She glanced at him over the flower, casting him a sweet smile from gloss-covered lips, and finally Xerxes couldn’t take it anymore.
“I must inform you, Maiden—” he stole a look up the wall toward the window again, “—that you don’t stand a chance in these trials. You should go home before I send you home in shame.”
There was movement at the window above. A smile danced over Xerxes’s lips.
The woman lowered the flower and when Xerxes glanced back at her, he almost jumped at the glare on her face. “What?” he growled. “Do you want a pat on the back for invading my personal space to steal a flower from my garden then making me watch you shove it up your nose?”
The woman’s jaw dropped, and a blush trickled across her fair cheeks. “You should watch out, Your Majesty,” she snarled in an ugly voice. “Even I know you’re powerless here! You have no idea what’s being planned for you.” She threw the flower to the ground, stomped on it, and marched off through the garden, swatting at blossoms and branches in her way.
Xerxes frowned. He eyed the rich colour of the maiden’s hair, trying to determine if he’d seen it before on any of the councilmen. She could be related to someone on the council, or even an Intelligentsia. She’d likely already made a deal with them to make all the kingdom decisions on his behalf once she was Queen.
Divinities have mercy, that unimportant goblin of a maiden was certainly the one the Intelligentsia would force him to marry. He wrapped his arms around himself as he tried to imagine it…
Nope. He couldn’t.
Suddenly Xerxes wondered what he was doing out here waiting for a maiden in gold that wasn’t coming. All movement had ceased by the window above him. In fact, the lanterns looked like they’d been blown out in Ryn’s room. He flicked a leaf off the bush before him and turned to march back into the palace.
What was the point of pretending? Games were for children, and he was no longer a child. He was back at the palace to take a wife, and it didn’t matter how much he played around with Ryn, it wasn’t going to be her. He couldn’t marry an Adriel.
Ryn would go back to General Reza once Xerxes chose a wife. And the sooner, the better—the Intelligentsia were bound to strike at her soon. Truly, the only way to save her now was for him to choose a Weylin wife and end these trials. His gaze sailed back to the redhead far into the orchard now, barely visible through the flowers.
He needed a bath.
Steam licked over Xerxes’s body when he entered the wide room of misty waterfalls and warm turquoise pools. A small collection of Folke relaxed in the baths at the far end. They lowered their voices when they noticed him there. Xerxes ignored them as he sank into a pool, but one or two whispers about the ink mark on his neck and chest still reached him over the humming waterfalls. Servants dumped rose petals and honey oils into his pool before bowing and excusing themselves.
A sage with black hair, smooth skin, and dark eyes entered the bath chambers next, changing the air around the pools. Damon walked slowly over the stone until he reached where Xerxes was. He slipped off a black robe and climbed into the pool while Xerxes looked off with a hard face. The water came right up to Damon’s pale chest.
“What gives you the right,” Xerxes said as he dragged his cold gaze back, “to enter the King’s pool?”
Damon angled his head. “I have something to discuss with you, Your Majesty. And I think you may already know what I’m going to say after your episode in the garden earlier.”
