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Alva keeps grumbling about puny kings and their tiny little peckers, and Khel's mouth flattens into a thin line. "How many concubines does he have?"
"None. Well, just me."
"Hm. And you say he doesn't force himself on you?"
I can't help thinking back to that all-consuming, domineering kiss. Zale might have crossed many lines, but I can hardly call myself an unwilling participant. If it had been up to me, I would have kept him right there, wrecking havoc in my core while setting my body on fire forever.
"He doesn't. And if he dared, I have a brand-new blade to pierce him with."
My friend snorts. "Like you'd take a demi."
I take the opportunity to recount how I did just that, though Adelaid Gyrth isn't in the same ball park as Zale Devar.
It's well past dusk when I finally head back to my speeder after catching up with the crew and some of the neighborhood. I'm stuffed full of street food and weak ale, and sweltering in the heat, even more oppressive now after I spent a day in the winter.
This time, my craft isn't here. I sigh, hardly surprised. I would have stolen it given half a chance, too.
I walk back to Five, exhausted by the hour-long trek in the heat. Dragging my feet to the third floor, I only lift my gaze to my door when I'm mere feet away from it.
That's when I see the eager crowd planted in front of it, awaiting my return.
"There she is! That's Helyn!"
"Is it true the king proposed in front of the entire white court?"
"Who designed the pearl dress, Helyn?"
"Were you truly not wearing anything?"
By all seven hells! I'm going to strangle Zale.
Just after I ask him to let me stay in his place.
I turn on my heels so fast, escaping the crowd by shouting irrelevant excuses until I'm back at the gate. Then, naturally, warm heavy rain starts, drenching me to the bone. By the time I'm back in front of the imposing manor I stormed away from just hours ago, I no doubt look like a drowned rat.
I'm surprised the king opens his door himself, given that he must have hundreds, if not thousands of servants at his command.
"Not a word," I hiss.
He presses his lips together, but doesn't even attempt to stop his smirking.
Zale isn't capable ofremaining silent for long. "I'll have your maid draw you a bath. Dinner's in an hour. Nothing formal."
He steps aside to let me in.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
ADAMANTLY MORTAL
Having a woman in my household isn't as uncomfortable or distracting as I assumed it would be, perhaps because it is Helyn and she doesn't make a habit of demanding much of me.
All she wanted was access to the library. I've barely seen her since.
I know for a fact the servants I brought back from Ravelyn for her benefit—two maids she seemed to like—informed her of breakfast and lunch, but by dinner, she hasn't seen fit to leave the company of my books.
I don't usually have the private dining room set up, preferring simple dinners at my desk when I'm alone, but I had the table dressed there all weekend, and dined with no one other than the eight footmen in attendance.
By dinner on Fevaday night, I've had enough. I stalk to the library doors and knock three times, before remembering this is my house. I push the doors open.
