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Chapter Thirty-Six
Aika
Ihead straight for the throng of women throwing themselves at the newly widowed king. I try to remind myself they have little more choice in their futures than I do, but it’s hard when they’re practically fondling him.
The chalyx — Khijhana, lets out a growl. The women scatter, and I feel my lips trying to tilt ever so slightly upward.
I think I might grow to like the beast, as my sister apparently did. I wonder if it misses her.
Did something in Jokith at least love her in an uncomplicated way?
The women aren’t deterred for long, so I take my chance to address the king.
“Cousin,” I say loudly. “How nice to see you here. Out of mourning.” Which is hypocritical coming from me, but I can’t seem to help myself.
“Lady Aika.” He inclines his head in acknowledgement, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “My wife was such a fan of events such as these. I thought it would do her memory honor to attend.”
Liar.But this time, he doesn’t even appear to be trying.
“A dance?” He offers his arm before I can say anything in response.
Not about to miss a chance to get some answers, I take the proffered arm and let him lead me out to the dance floor. Khijhana stays behind, though her face looks almost... sulky. She fixes her teal gaze on one of the many couples on the dance floor, placing her giant head on her paws.
Neither of us speaks until we are at the outskirts of the ballroom floor, the music swelling up around us and a steady hum of conversation to help conceal our voices.
I catch a whiff of jasmine, and something in me breaks just a little bit more.
“Did you dance with Zaina like this?” I can’t explain my need to know if they were close, to understand a little bit more of how she spent the last months of her life.
Did she dance?
Was she happy?
His brow furrows.
“No,” he says quietly. “We never had the time.”
“Really?” I don’t bother to keep the sarcasm from my tone. “Even though shelovedevents such as these?”
He looks like he either wants to laugh or throw something. “What would you have me say?”
I take a breath and lean into the next few steps of the dance before responding in a quieter tone.
“Is the truth so much to ask?” Another bit of hypocrisy, but we’re talking about my sister, and I’m exhausted of the lies.
“That Zaina only barely tolerated social functions?” he responds without hesitation, raising his eyebrows.
“It’s a good place to start,” I allow.
He spins me in time with the music, matching the pace of the other dancers on the floor. I wait to ask my next question until I’m close to him again.
“Why are you here? To secure a new bride?” Accusation coats my tone, and I don’t bother to conceal it.
“No.” His lip curls in disgust, his abhorrence of the idea evident even with the rest of his face obscured by the lupine mask.
“Then why?” I demand.
Einar looses a breath, his unnaturally blue eyes boring into mine.
