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“Yes, Your Highness, and you will always find them empty of anything harmful to you.” I swallow against my nerves and look up, praying he sees only sincerity. “I would never harm someone who showed my family such mercy as you have.”
His eyes settle on my mouth. He has such long lashes. “I would hope not, because there are far worse Islorians out there than I who wish to sit on this throne.”
“Yes, you are about to marry one.” The seamstress Dagny claims a daaknar would be friendlier than the Lady Saoirse.
The king’s eyebrows climb halfway up his forehead with genuine shock.
“I mean … I …” I can’t even come up with a suitable excuse for my idiocy. I am usually much smarter than this. Why did my lips loosen for him?
I tense as the king’s hand settles on my throat, his cool fingers curling around it. He could snap my neck with no effort, squeeze until the airflow cuts off. Suddenly, this dank little room blazes, as my pulse hammers in my veins, and I wait for him to dole out my punishment for insulting his future queen.
But he doesn’t squeeze or otherwise threaten me injury. His thumb smooths a circle against my skin while his gaze roams over my face, before slipping down to my exposed neckline. Heat flares in his eyes. If the guard died while testing Sabrina, then the king hasn’t tended to his needs yet tonight.
He leans forward.
And I brace myself for the prick of those fangs, the pull against my flesh, as if my very vein is being tugged through my skin.
“If anyone asks, you undressed for me, and I searched you thoroughly,” he whispers, his lips grazing my earlobe, sending an unexpected wave of pleasure through me to combat the fear. “We don’t want Boaz circling back for his own inspection.”
I swallow. “Yes, Your Highness.”
He lingers another long moment before pulling away abruptly and stalking toward the door. Throwing it open, he marches out without a look back.
I can’t say how long I stand there, but eventually Suri’s cries can’t be ignored.
By the time Corrin returns with my other children, I’ve fed and tucked her in and righted our room. The chaos within the servants’ quarters has faded, the guards searching for the perpetrator elsewhere. It doesn’t sound like they’ve found one here. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“So?” Corrin asks. “Did the king give you much issue?”
“None at all.” He is far different from what I expected. Playful at times, almost boyish. “You were right. He can be rather charming.” And seductive, whether that was his intention or not. Surely not. What purpose would a king have for seducing a mortal baker with three children in tow?
My cheeks flush under Corrin’s weighty stare.
CHAPTER TEN
ZANDER
“They’re not coming.” Abarrane paces along the inside of the gate like a caged beast. “We should never have let that Ybarisan ride off. If you had allowed me, I could have—”
“He said it was, what, a six-hour ride? That’s half a day, there and back. Plus time to convince this Radomir guy, who can only travel at night, to release Drakon and Iago. Have some faith, Abarrane.” Romeria says this, and yet she paces too.
“Faith in whom, exactly?” she sneers. “The Ybarisans or the saplings? Do you know what you ask? Both sides are murderers and thieves. One has been plotting to kill us and take our land, and the other plot to take our blood and then kill us.”
“I get that. But torturing Kienen for information would have gotten us nowhere. It would have been stupid—”
Jarek inserts his enormous body between the two bickering females before I can react. The rest of the legionaries remain where they are, not foolish enough to get in the middle. “I cannot stand relying on them either, but this plan offers at least a chance for some form of arrangement,” he says.
“Well, don’t you sing a different tune now,” Abarrane growls.
“A pragmatic one? It’s the only realistic chance we have of getting Iago and Drakon back.”
She sniffs. “I still think we should let Ybaris and Lyndel battle each other.”
“We will need all of them fighting alongside us for what is ahead, if Queen Neilina’s letter hints at the truth,” I add coolly, hoping my words will end the quarreling. An impossible task, I’m sure, but I’m searching deep for hope. Telor has been a friend for many years. Not the same sort of friend as Theon Rengard of Bellcross, but one nonetheless.
Abarrane spins on her heels and marches to the far side to calm her temper.
I can’t blame my commander for her doubt or her anguish. Neither the saplings nor the Ybarisans can be trusted. We don’t even know if the two legionaries are still alive. But what we do know now is that Neilina plans to cross the rift at the height of the Hudem moon with a mighty army that will take advantage of Islor’s growing dysfunction.
