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And that made Keris exceptionally nervous.
For all she’d made no move against his father, there’d been no mistaking the murder in her eyes when she’d come face-to-face with her mother’s killer. She wanted him dead; there was no doubt. And in that, their thoughts were aligned.
It was the method that had him concerned. He’d bought her time today, but that mattered little if she got herself killed in the pursuit of honor and vengeance.
Sitting up straight, Keris winced as his spine cracked from hours of leaning over pen and paper. He was in the heir’s quarters in the tower, though this was the first time he’d been here since Rask died. His things had been brought from his residence in the city, but there were still traces of his elder brother, most notably the furniture. It was all sized as though for a giant, the bed large enough for ten, the heavy wood covered with gold leaf and the bedding vivid indigo and gold stripes.
He hated every piece of it.
But more than that, he hated being parted from Valcotta. For days upon days, he’d been at her side, and her absence, especially in this place, had his nerves on edge. Not only because she was surrounded by enemies, but because he knew her mind, at least, would not be sitting idle. Which meant it was only a matter of time until she took action.
Closing his eyes, Keris allowed his thoughts to drift, visions of Valcotta filling them. He’d seen hardened warriors reduced to tears in his father’s presence. Yet despite the bastard threatening her life and digging into the wound of her mother’s murder, Valcotta had stood defiant, never losing control. Every bit the empress she was destined to become, and the vision of her stirred heat in him that, for long days, had been tempered by circumstance.
“Idiot,” he muttered. “You’re the last man she wants anywhere near her.”
And even if it were otherwise, he’d not pursue pleasureful ends. Not because the risk of being caught was high, for that had never stopped him before, but because he refused to take anything from her while she was held prisoner.
Yet that did nothing to stop memories of their night together from filling his mind’s eye. Memories of her slowly stripping naked, of the way she’d looked at him while she’d touched herself, of the way her ragged breaths made his cock stiffen. God help him, but no woman had ever driven him wild like she had, all thought pushed from his head and replaced with the need to touch her, to taste her, to pleasure her until she screamed his name.
Except she didn’t know your name, you jackass. And if she had, she’d never have allowed you near her.
The thought was akin to having a bucket of ice water dumped on his crotch, and Keris opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, feeling a growing hollowness in his chest. It wasn’t the absence of her body that was carving his insides out; it was the absence of her voice in his ears. That was what he craved, what heneeded, more than he cared to admit.
A knock sounded at the door, and rising to unbolt it, Keris bit back an annoyed sigh at the sight of the Magpie standing in the stairwell. “What do you need, Serin? I’ve been on the road, and I am weary.”
“Only a moment of your time, Your Highness.”
It was tempting to slam the door in the spymaster’s face, but Keris was curious as to what the man might want. Stepping back, he gestured into the room. “Wine?”
“Water, if you have it. I’ve work left to do tonight that requires a clear head.”
Work that probably involved torturing the King of Ithicana, but Aren Kertell was not Keris’s primary concern. “As you like.” He poured the spymaster his water and wine for himself, then settled back at his desk. Serin perched on the seat across from him.
“I understand from your father that you’re of a mind to use the Valcottan girl to negotiate with the Empress. I must say, you show more foresight than your predecessors.”
“Iammore intelligent than all of them combined. Thank you for noticing.”
Serin made a face. “Indeed, although a penchant for self-aggrandizement is an attribute you all share.”
Keris shrugged. “No one is perfect, Serin. Now, what is it that you want?”
“I think there is merit to moving your negotiations south to Nerastis.” The Magpie took a sip of his water. “The proximity will allow speed of negotiation, and while you are there, you can return to your studies of war.”
“What an interesting dichotomy: to be both negotiating and fighting with the same people at the same time.”
“Such is politics.” Serin gave him a tight smile. “And it would please your father greatly.”
“My father? Or you?” Keris put his boots up on his desk, eyeing the old man. There were bloodstains on his robes. “Because I think him content to have me here as long as I serve him well.”
“With respect, Highness, when did you start caring about pleasing your father? All your life you’ve made sport of doing the exact opposite.”
“Since it became a matter of life or death.” Sipping at his wine, which was very good after the swill that was served in Nerastis, Keris added, “I’m never going to impress him with my martial skills, so I must impress him with my cleverness.”
“Maridrinian kings are famous for their prowess on the battlefield, not their cleverness.”
Laughing, Keris lifted his glass in toast. “I believe you just called my father stupid. Bravo! You’re braver than I gave you credit for.”
“You twist my words, Highness.”
