He performs that curious upward eye motion, and I notice it immediately. “What does that gesture signify?”
“What gesture?”
“That movement with your eyes. My consort does the same thing. I assumed it was some affliction of yours.”
He repeats the motion deliberately, and I nod. “Yes, exactly that!”
He mutters something under his breath that I can’t quite catch, so I lean closer. Perhaps unwise, given his chains and my possession of the key. I pull back cautiously.
But he doesn’t strain against his bonds or reach for the key. His voice remains patient, almost gentle. “You’re hopeless, brother. It’s a cosmic injustice that I’m trapped with this curse while you roam free.”
The bitterness in his voice is unmistakable. I feel a stab of guilt, though mostly I shudder at the thought. I wouldn’t trade places with him for anything in existence. Especially now that I have a warm, wonderful consort to cherish, while he remains bound in this cold dungeon.
“I’m sorry, Romulus.”
He clenches his jaw and stretches his neck. The parasite sleeps now but won’t remain dormant much longer.
“I despise pity,” he grinds out through gritted teeth.
I straighten immediately. “Then you’ll receive none from me. But please, brother, I’m asking for guidance. This consort—” I gaze toward the rough stone wall, gathering my thoughts. “She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered. She doesn’t flee from me in terror. Doesn’t scream at my appearance.”
No, instead she screams directly at me in defiance, challenging me with those tiny, endearing teeth that look like they’ve been filed to harmless little points.
“Talk,” Romulus repeats patiently. “Ask her questions. Listen to her answers. Then ask more questions. It’s called conversation. Like what we’re doing right now.”
I actually laugh at that suggestion. “But you’re my brother. And she is...”
His eyes perform that upward motion again. “Yes, yes, she’s your consort. Talk to her anyway. If you’ve found a woman who doesn’t recoil at the sight of you, then treasure her company, you fortunate bastard.”
I frown and rise to my feet. The parasite is growing restless. I should leave before it awakens. “You possess wisdom about many things, brother, but in this, I believe you’re mistaken. Consorts require guidance and structure. Not casual conversation.”
“Says who?” Romulus challenges sharply. “Creator-Father?” His eyes darken as he strains against his bonds again. His teeth clench as he fights for control. “Because that philosophy served him so well.”
I bare my teeth at him for daring to suggest such a comparison. “I am nothing like Creator-Father.”
Romulus manages a grim smile, then raises his forearms, showing the hell-metal chains that bind him from elbow to wrist. “Are you so certain about that, brother?”
The question hits me like a physical blow. With a frustrated growl, I spin away from him and storm toward the dungeon entrance. I ensure the door slams behind me loudly enough to wake his sleeping torment.
Cruel, perhaps.
But I’ve never pretended to be anything other than the monster I am.
Yet as I climb the stone steps toward the inhabited levels of my castle, Romulus’s words echo in my mind.Talk to her. Ask her questions. Listen to her answers.
The suggestion seems so simple, yet so foreign to everything I understand about the proper relationship between a powerful being and his consort.
But then I remember the way her eyes light up when she speaks passionately about something. The musical quality of herlaughter. How animated she becomes when explaining concepts I don’t understand.
Perhaps... perhaps there’s wisdom in my brother’s counsel after all.
Maybe I don’t need to command her respect and obedience.
Maybe I could simply... earn it.
The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating.
EIGHTEEN
