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“Oh, I believe the lust part.” Still felt its sting in my backside, too. “It’s the love part I cannot comprehend.”
She only shrugged.
I jutted my chin toward the other man, who never as much as blinked, his thin strands of brown wisps snaking around the porous bone. “And the other?”
A sneer came over her features, showing off a row of graying teeth. “Commander Joah Mertok.”
“What did he do?” When she struggled with the page of her book to make it turn under her unreliable fingers, I leaned over and turned it for her. “Has Enosh always been this cruel?”
“Crueler. For a time. The dead and the living forget, lass, taking their sorrows to the grave.” She looked up from her book, letting her black-veined eyes lock with mine. “Gods do not, and rage on.”
Dread weighed down my shoulders, and I looked over at the crumbling bridge. What had happened to Enosh that made him abandon his duty, sequestering himself in this empty, dull place? On more than one occasion, he’d called us mortals wicked. Aside from feeding him to the fire for weeks, what other cruelties had he endured?
Should I care?
As if my thoughts had conjured him, the man strolled over a bridge and walked up the dais, once more dressed in black breeches and a white shirt. With a gesture of his hand, he dismissed Orlaigh and lowered himself onto his throne.
“Come to me.” Two taps against his thigh as if I was his dog. “Kneel before your god.”
“You lack a great deal of divinity for a god and do a poor job at fulfilling your duty.”
He smiled as if my snarky remarks amused him.
Then he let a wave of weakness gnaw on my knees until they caved in. A death weight followed, pushing against my shoulders until my palms hit the bone.
He made me crawl to him, feathers catching on the edge of the dais until some ripped off, wafting around me like snow as teeth and bones clanked on my bodice. “I’m not an animal.”
“No, animals get scraps, whereas I make certain you receive the best meals from beyond the gates, the softest pelts for your bed, the best paints gold can buy. You’ve been pulling on your collar again.” Hooking a finger under my chin, he guided my head to rest on his lap and gently stroked the sore skin beneath the bone ring. “I’m afraid in regard to your chain, I had to choose thickness over length.”
“Because you don’t have enough bone to maintain the Pale Court.” The reason why I’d been able to break his shackles and one bridge had holes the size of a wolf. “Your kingdom is falling apart around you. Why? Because Lord Tarnem burned you at the stake?”
“He also disemboweled me… twice.” His fingers combed through my hair like he often did, a digit slowly tracing along the shell of my ear. “My little treasure is tired.”
“I’m always tired.” My senses dulled from hours of doing nothing but pace and paint. “Is it night? Day? Nobody ever sleeps. It’s… confusing.”
As if I were a little child in need of a nap, he plucked me from the ground and cradled me to his chest, my bone chain clanking against his throne. “Paints. An entire kingdom as your canvas. The finest dresses I can create. Berries with nearly every meal. What else does my woman need to be content?”
“You’re making me sound like a spoiled brat, not a prisoner.”
“A spoiled prisoner, then,” he said, as if a cage wasn’t a cage, no matter how pretty. “More books, perhaps?”
“I can’t read.”
His eyes went to the stack of leather-bound books beside my bed, jaws clenching as if he scolded himself for not noticing sooner. “Then I shall teach you.”
Ah, great. What a fool I was, earning even more of his attention.
“There aren’t many books left to read ever since the high priests outlawed all writings but those the temples provided.”
“Praising your false god, no doubt.”
“Why would they do that?”
“You’re not listening, little one.” Another pitying stroke through my hair. “Mortals are wicked creatures, always striving for more power than they can handle. If the masses pray to a god who doesn’t exist, then the mortal who speaks for said god amasses great power. Riches too, I would assume.”
My mind went to the tithe the priests collected twice a year. “The temples have gold-plated signs.”
“I have little bone at my disposal, it is true. The price I pay for an oath given.” With a flick of his hand, he reshaped my collar, widening it enough that a calming chill settled on my skin. “The stiffness in your muscles over your discontent is cumbersome.”
