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Avoiding Valcotta’s gaze, he growled at the guards waiting outside the door, “Bring her,” then started down the stairs, exiting on the second level in order to take one of the enclosed walkways that connected the tower to the other buildings of the inner sanctum. As he crossed, his eyes flicked to the three corpses now hanging from the wall, crows already circling above.
Aren Kertell remained chained to a bench, his face blank and unreadable as he stared at the corpses, Serin nowhere in sight. Which meant the Magpie was probably on his way to meet with Keris’s father to discuss whatever he’d learned from the prisoner king. It wouldn’t be long until the bodies started to stink, until the flies began to swarm and the birds to pick at their flesh, and dizziness swept over him as memory juxtaposed itself over reality.
Shaking his head to clear it, Keris stepped into the harem’s quarters, which, despite the hallway being empty, were loud with female chatter, shouting children, and a few crying babies. “Go back to the main palace,” he said to the soldiers, taking Valcotta’s arm himself. “This place is not for your eyes.”
And not waiting to see if they complied, he pulled Valcotta along with him, allowing the door to slam shut.
She looked at the closed doors lining the curved hallway with curiosity, tone cool as she asked, “What is this place?”
“The harem.” His voice was sharper than he intended, his apprehension over the conversation he was about to have with his aunt nearly as bad as he’d felt over the one with his father. “Men aren’t allowed in here.”
She arched one eyebrow at him and Keris sighed. “Obviously I’m exempt. I meant no men who are not of my family.”
Her eyes brightened. “So there are no guards?”
Giving her a long look of warning, he said, “There are,” the verity of the statement revealed as they reached the apex of the curved hallway, where two such guards stood outside a closed door. “But they’ve had certain parts removed, if you get my meaning.”
Zarrah huffed out a shocked breath, but she said nothing as he gave a firm knock on the heavy wood. After a moment, it swung open, revealing an exceptionally beautiful woman with ivory skin and hair so blond it was nearly white.
Lestara was the daughter of a king of one of the smaller nations north of Harendell, having been offered as a bride in exchange for one of Keris’s half sisters. She was several years younger than Keris was himself, but because she had the habit of looking at him like he was something she might one day consume, he said, “Good morning,Auntie.”
Lestara’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and she dropped into a low curtsey. “Your Highness! We hadn’t been made aware you were in Vencia.” Then she caught sight of Zarrah, and the pleasure on her face was eaten away by anger. Despite having lived in Maridrina less than a year, the harem’s prejudices had already worn off on her. “Why is there aValcottanin our house?”
She saidValcottanlike Keris might sayworm, and for no reason other than to goad her, he said, “I finally decided to get married.”
Lestara’s amber eyes bulged, but the joke was ruined as a voice belonging to an older woman said, “He’s teasing you, girl. Not even Keris has the balls to marry a Valcottan. Mostly because he knows I’d chop them off myself if he ever did so.”
“What an awful thing to say, Auntie Coralyn.” He tugged Valcotta into the room. “You know how attached I am to them.”
The matriarch of the royal harem snorted and took a long sip of steaming tea, eyeing him up and down. After his own mother was murdered, Coralyn had personally seen to Keris’s upbringing, and even after he’d grown too old to live within these walls—his father uninterested in competition, least of all from his sons—he’d remained close with her by letter and frequent visits. She’d intervened often between him and his father in his youth, and though it had not come to pass, had fought tirelessly on his behalf for him to attend university in Harendell. Not because she had any time for philosophy, but because she’d recognized that remaining in Maridrina would be the death of him.
“You’d better have a good explanation for this, boy. And it betternothave anything to do with her pretty face.”
“Otis captured her, not me, so if you’re going to cast stones, direct them at him. I merely recognized her worth and decided to capitalize upon it.”
“Oh?” Coralyn crossed her arms. “Care to elaborate, or are you more interested in standing there looking smug?”
“This is Zarrah Anaphora. She’s…” Keris trailed off as every woman in the room rose, their faces darkening. On the surface, the harem seemed soft and civilized, but he knew better. Knew what they were capable of, if pressed.
“You can’t kill her.” He stepped between Zarrah and the other women. “I’m going to ransom her back to the Empress in exchange for a trade deal with Valcotta. I’m afraid that requires her alive, so control yourselves.”
One of Coralyn’s eyebrows rose. “Sometimes you are too busy being clever to think about whether what you’re doing is smart, boy. Do you have any notion how many of the harem’s sons have been lost to the Valcottans? This woman personally murdered your brother.”
Keris made a face. “You yourself said Rask was an idiot and a sadist, Auntie. Don’t go pretending to be morose over his loss.”
Coralyn opened her mouth, but the retort in her eyes never reached her lips as Zarrah said, “I didn’t murder him. I met him blade to blade on the field of battle, and while fate favored my life over his, he died with his weapon in his hand, cursing my name.”
Silence fell over the room, and Keris clenched his teeth as he waited for wrath to fall upon her. And him.
But Coralyn only lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Better a weapon than his manhood, I suppose. We’ve had a few lost in the brothels over the years, and it’s truly embarrassing for all involved.”
Zarrah laughed softly, and the tone of it made Keris’s skin prickle with memory. The last time he’d heard her laugh was when she’d been naked in his arms. Was before she knew his name. He shoved aside the sensation. “Rask notwithstanding, I’m well aware of the enmity between her family and ours. But our coffers grow thin, and if you wish to remain in the style to which you’re accustomed, we need Valcottan revenue from the bridge.”
“I dislike this, Keris. You’ve brought a fox into the henhouse.”
“You don’t need to like it. You need only find her a room and ensure she is kept in comfort fitting her title. And while she might be a fox, don’t pretend you and yours are helpless hens, because I know better.”
His aunt made a noncommittal noise, then took a mouthful of tea. “Fine. But this will be on my terms, Keris. My rules. Is that understood?”
