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29
RHEA
I can’t explain why I’m alive. I just can’t. Which means that unless he’s used various charms and spells and dark magic I know nothing about—a possibility I’m not discounting—Doryn might not have lied. I might be…something. Something that uses sex to get stronger. I certainly feel stronger.
I have so many questions and no means to find any answers except asking him—and I just refuse to.
I pace the empty room while the king and his friend remain on the bed, happily napping. If I were the only consideration here, I’d take the opportunity to run. However, I really need Sorsha and the others with me.
Which of course means that I would have accepted Doryn’s strange proposal, even if he hadn’t made it the prize of this challenge.
Consort, he called me, and I wrinkle my nose.The very notion revolts me, but if that’s the price of having my three friends near me, I’ll pay it.
I go to the bathroom, and no one stops me. The pool is empty, this time, so I make a bee line for the filled basins on the far end, and wash off the various body fluids coating my skin.
My hands linger on the spot where I was stabbed moments ago. The pain was white hot, all-consuming for one moment, then there was a stinging sensation, and after that, nothing at all. The back of my hand is pristine, just like my chest. Part of me wants to hate Doryn for stabbing me, but he knew, with absolute certainty, what was going to happen. He never doubted my nature; it wasn’t just a theory for him. I wonder how he was so sure, when even I never suspected I was anything other than a regular peasant.
I don’t miss the little things either. My skin seems tighter, smoother, and almost luminescent, despite the dim light. And I’m wide awake, restless energy pulsing through my veins. I could run a dozen miles—and the gods know I hate to run. I don’t quite know what to do with myself.
That’s a lie.
I know exactly how I want to do. I won’t let myself, but I can see it. I can imagine myself crawling back onto the bed and climbing over Doryn’s lap and parting my thighs. I could take what I need, rather than letting him mount me like an animal. I could ride him tomysatisfaction, and only let him come if I wish him to. I could—
I don’t know where those impulses come from. I’ve certainly never felt any of them before. I want to blame Caldoryn for them, pretend I believe he’s done something to me, but I can’t muster much outrage. Not when I am so deliciously content.
Content, not yet sated.
“There are plenty of ways to kill you.”
I straighten up with a start. I never heard her approach, but Silver’s leaning over the closest smooth, dark wall.
“Beheading, fire, destroying your heart or brain. It takes a bit more effort than the average execution, but it’s doable.” Her silver eyes flash as she smiles at me. “Hurt him again and it’ll be my pleasure to see how much I can cut away before you beg for death, fiend.”
Her voice remains entirely pleasant, with a cheerful lilt.
She’d do it, too. She’s completely loyal to her king. I find that my lips quiver as I attempt to speak. “He’s—”
“He’s done nothing to your precious little Allea. None of us care for your backwater kingdom, filled with weak-minded sycophants manipulated for generations.”
“And you’re not manipulated?” I bite back, finally finding my spine.
Silver pushes off the wall with a snort. “Have you ever questioned anything you’ve been told by what you consider authority, girl? Your church of light, your captain, your Kind King’s words?”
I narrow my eyes, bristling, but I can’t deny her words ring true.
I was told Nyxar was evil, and I believed it. To my marrow, I believe it still. Are they not evil?They delight in sin, in lust, in depravity. How can all of their excesses possibly be right? They don’t feel right. Being spread out and touched by half a court feels dirty.
Doryn has made me his toy,I remind myself. Not one single person in the crowd seemed to mind, so of course they are evil.
Then again, the Alleans didn’t exactly jump to my defense.
“We don’t turn women into slaves for a man’s satisfaction in Allea,” I snap, safe in that knowledge.
She laughs out loud. “By now you would have been cut to tiny pieces bit by bit after what you did.”
She’s not wrong, and I’m not about to admit it, least of her to her, so I hold my head high and walk away, mustering what’s left of my dignity.
By the time I return to my room, the king and his friend are clothed, which is only mildly disappointing.
