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“Why won’t you answer me?” She felt her eyes filling with tears. She was vulnerable, naked in bed with the two of them, and she was terrified by the total silence.
“We were babies, Phuong.”
The tears spilled then.
“Where was your father?” she whispered. “Where was he when the merchant Draka stole the Yore imperial family’s wealth?”
Olivier looked down at the bed, which still had some marks of last night’s passion.
“We’re not our father.”
They didn’t have to spell it out for her. She understood now. She wasn’t sure if their father had directly hurt hers, but she knew that their father had stood by while not lifting a finger to help her father. Why else would Olivier say that they weren’t like their father, a king of great power and renown, a warrior who had led the Draka in more than one war, according to her history lessons?
She knew that they were right, that it was unfair to blame them for things that had happened when they were babies. They weren’t responsible for what had happened on Vestra.
But what about their father? Had they been raised to despise Yore? Were they the right mates as she looked for a way to re-establish the Yore empire?
She knew that she would love them forever, but right now, it seemed more like a curse than a blessing.
57
Leaving
Phuong
Phuong spent the next day getting pretty. Beauty was a kind of shield against feeling like a helpless object. Hoa helped her get ready for the night, where she’d stand by the Thrones’ side while they came back to the auction house.
They were going to march in Marc’s front door. The action would publicly announce that they were mated, but she was worried about it becoming public before she was really ready.
She hadn’t had the opportunity to connect with any Yore beyond Hoa. Now she was going to announce that she was mated to two Thrones and that she was with child, two children who would be twice royal.
Hoa said that they would be legendary kings.
Then it was time. Gahariet came into her room and leaned against the doorframe.
“You look beautiful.”
She turned to smile at her mate. He came to her, put his hands on her waist. He leaned down to kiss her, but she pushed on his chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re going to mess up my makeup.”
“You’re stunning, Princess Phuong.” He slid his hand over the silk that flowed like water over the curves of her body.
“Thank you for this gown.”
“Only the best for our mate, princess, and queen.”
He was talking about himself and Olivier, but Phuong felt a twinge. She was supposed to be the Yore empress, and he didn’t know exactly who her father was, only that he was deposed Yore royalty.
She cleared her throat. “Are you ready to go?”
He offered her his arm. “Let’s go downstairs.”
Xuan and Olivier were waiting downstairs. Olivier let out a low whistle on her arrival.
He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I can’t wait to get you naked when we come home later.”
