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I hadn’t thought of those scenarios. But would she scheme with such calculation? “She told me to keep the mortal children safe for her. It sounded like she would be coming back for them.”
“See? Who knows what she has planned, but I imagine it has to do with reclaiming the throne. She always was a cunning one. Both versions of her.” Corrin shakes her head. “But, Gracen, if not for your sake, then for your children’s, do not choose sides and do not get involved. Give the king what he needs and nothing more.”
I nod, swallowing the guilt and fear that swirls inside me, knowing that I now hold secrets he may consider treasonous.
But I would never do anything to harm him. He must know that.
Corrin pushes the door open and lifts her chin. “Since when do captains hover outside bathing chamber doors? Is that not beneath you?” she asks crisply with that hint of arrogance. I don’t know where she digs it up from. Sometimes I wish I had it in me.
Kazimir is already moving for the terrace. “Come. This way is faster.”
“I shall take the baby down with me. I doubt she will stir again tonight.” Corrin moves for the settee, where Suri sleeps soundly in her basket, a fire crackling in the hearth nearby.
I pause long enough to wonder when I tell my daughter one day that she slept in the queen of Islor’s chambers, will she believe me? “Thank you.” I read one last stark warning in Corrin’s steady gaze before I follow Kazimir out.
The cold air bites at my skin as we move along a narrow passage that connects the queen’s and king’s terraces.
Kazimir steals a look at my ensemble, and I do my best not to shrink under the attention. I’ve been leered at by males, but this appraisal feels different. Appreciative. “Do you approve now?”
“Of the absence of urine and vomit? Yes.” He chuckles. “Though I think I miss the perpetual streak of flour on your cheek.”
“We could detour to the kitchen and fix that for you.”
“And fool myself into believing it is me you are dressing for?” He winks before opening the door. His mood is much lighter than before. He’s buoyed by relief for not just his king but his friend. “After you.”
I enter Atticus’s bedchamber as a guard is lifting an unconscious Wendeline in his arms, her limbs dangling helplessly.
Panic flares inside me. “Is she okay?”
“Wendeline is a lot tougher than she looks,” Atticus croaks as a servant I’ve seen but never spoken to smooths a washcloth over his bloodied chest. Another carries a second basin of fresh water. “She will be fine in the morning.”
Romeria’s message will have to wait until then.
My joy to see Atticus conscious again pushes aside all other thoughts. He’s still sickly pale, his lips tinged blue. But when his eyes roll over me, taking in my silk gown and robe, my stomach flips.
“Leave us,” he commands softly.
The servants move instantly, collecting the basin of dirty water and scurrying out. It’s as if they were waiting for the command and can’t get away fast enough. How any of them can fear him so is beyond me.
And yet you feared him once too, I remind myself. Or at least, I feared his immense power.
“Here, let me continue that.” I round the bed to his side and settle onto the edge, collecting a clean cloth from the stack and dipping it into the basin left behind. The water is still warm. I smooth it over his torso, uncovering taut muscle and golden skin with each stroke. “You bled a lot.”
“So I’ve heard.” He studies my face. “I like this version of you.”
I blush. “I borrowed something from the queen’s closet. My appearance was not appropriate, according to some.” I give a pointed look toward Kazimir.
“No, I meant how you moved in without hesitation. As if you have a right to me.”
My hand stalls over his chest. Was I too brazen? Too presumptuous?
“No. I mean it, Gracen. Don’t second-guess yourself.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “And for the love of all the fates above, please do not stop.”
Swallowing my nerves, I drag the cloth down his stomach, marveling at the cut ridges he showed off for me only days ago.
“The men who attacked me?” he asks.
“Both dead,” Kazimir confirms. “They were waiting in the Jadelight. Rhodes is not here to confirm, but I would bet they were the mercenaries meeting with Danthrin. They each had a hefty purse of coin on them.”
“Funded by Stoll and his supporters, no doubt. They probably thought they could kill me and the eastern lords would walk free. I should have executed them already.” His chest heaves beneath my careful ministrations. “I suppose it was rather stupid of me to go there, in hindsight.”
