A red tinge filled Atsadi’s face. “Who? Give me names.”
“I will give younothing. They do this because you’ve let them believe they’re untouchable. That your loyalty is to them instead of your wives.” Kai paused, her anger deflating as she admitted the rest. “And they do this because I stood up to Usti. Fala doesn’t leave our home anymore, and that is our fault—yours and mine.”
She had let this happen. Let Fala become a prisoner in their own home. The shame of it burned deeper than her fury.
“Tell me what I can do, Kai. I will do anything to regain her trust and yours.”
“Distance yourself from Usti and his men while I begin interrogations. Don’t get wrapped up in this any more than you already have. And if there’s a name to drag from him, I will tear it from the deepest part of his bowels if I have to.”
He nodded. “You have my word. I won’t speak to him or his people ever again.”
“If I hear one word to the contrary, Atsadi?—”
“I will hand myself over to your mother’s mercy and request the annulment of our union myself.”
Kai studied him and… It was as if the bottom had dropped out as relief crashed against her. He meant every word. For Fala’s peace of mind, she hoped she wasn’t wrong.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The man who returned from the Nicolean lands wore the same face, but the shape of Dimitrios’s spine had changed. Where uncertainty once slowed his steps, purpose now braced his every breath.
The weeks following the assassinations had left him on his back foot, unable to see a path forward, thoughts in a constant spiral. He wasn’t the king. Perean wasn’t his to rule. This palace and these rooms didn’t belong to him. Who was he to rummage throughanything? He wouldn’t even have a key to anything if not for Selene.
Antonis—his words, his history, his beliefs—changed everything.
Dimitrios had left the family estate forged by a new fire.
He was a goddamned Vidaltatos, for good or ill. The blood in his veins gave him the right to every brick, stone, block of wood, and speck of dust. He didn’t need a ceremony to be the king Perean needed, and sitting back wouldn’t help him win the majority vote of the provinces. The votes would come.
That was, of course, if he needed them.
Stavros Salidis could wake any day now.
In either case, Perean needed helpthis very hour.
After months of the palace bustling with courtiers and laughter and conversation, not to mention the side glances and whispers Dimitrios hadendured, it was a relief to walk through the corridors to nothing but the clip of his own footsteps.
His search began in the council chambers in the early morning. The records within were months behind and reflected a very different state of Perean than Dimitrios had been led to believe in recent weeks.
Orestis Vidalatos’s offices, too, were more of the same. The one document he found interesting was a contract with Eslodel. It appeared a portion of Perean’s naval military stood guard around their naval borders, thwarting the nearby pirate presence.
Another document—a letter—from the woman in Yiria named Misae White Spirit demanded the restoration of her trade deal with Eslodel. If there’d been a reply, Dimitrios couldn’t tell, but he sensed this might be an issue worth diving into further.
Later, though. He had more pressing matters.
Like where Perean’s wealth had gone and why Titos Demakis was sniffing at his border. If he lost control of Perean, he’d have no standing to doanythingfor anyone else.
By the time he left Orestis’s office, the palace marble glowed with the golden hour’s orange light. He’d lost the entire day already, and he still had more to go through.
Each councilman had a private office inside the palace. Tassatos, the Supreme Commander, kept detailed records of Soterran military locations—all outside Perean borders. He’d also noted places of bandit activity interrupting important trade routes.
Nektarios had been concerned about this during that overheard conversation, but Leonidas had brushed it off.
Leonidas had brushed off a lot of concerns, actually.
Dimitrios skipped every room after the Supreme Commanders and strode directly into the chambers belonging to Leonidas Primakos. The High Chancellor kept a neat and tidy study outside his bed chambers. Thick curtains were drawn over the windows, though pulling them back did Dimitrios no good. Night had finally fallen.
