Any reply stuck in my throat until I swallowed the shame of it, because yes, in retrospect, it was always ridiculous that I had thought I’d marry him. “I never took my final vows to Wesha. The rebellion broke out, and Death started hunting us. The rest are dead.”
“Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. What was Wesha’s price for your man?”
I blinked at him, hesitating. I was rapidly reevaluating everything I’d thought I knew about his allegiances. What he cared about. And I only realized now that Wesha hadn’t extracted any price from me at all. “You. I promised that I’d bring you to her.”
“Me? You vowed that you’d bring me to the Painted Tower?” Taran laughed in a rough bark. He stood and paced a few feet away. There was a brief flash of emotion on his face, quickly suppressed under that mask of bored amusement he now wore. “No wonder you looked so happy to see me.”
He wheeled around and crouched back down, closer than before. There was an electric aura to his presence that made my heart pound even while broken. He’d always been strong enough to bedangerous—I’d just never thought before this moment that he might be dangerous to me.
“Did she say what she wanted with me?” he asked, words clipped.
“No. Nothing. She didn’t tell me anything. I thought you were mortal,” I said, banked anger flaring up again.
He’d lied. He’d lied over and over. To me, to everyone. Maybe he’d secretly undermined us. Maybe nothing was what I’d thought.
“Are you sure there was nothing else?” Taran asked intently.
I shook my head.
“It sounded…easy,” I said, remembering. “I would have done anything she asked. And all she asked was that I bring you to her. I thought I’d get you from the Underworld, then go home.” I bent my head forward, heart twisting painfully.
I should have known better. Like he said, the gods did nothing for free.
His gaze softened in response to my slump, or perhaps it was only that the possibility of violence retreated. After a moment, he stood and put his hands on his hips.
“Iona ter Wesha,” he said thoughtfully. “Well, you’re not Wesha’s anymore. Iona. I suppose I’ll put you in the solar for now.”
“What?” I was startled out of my moment of deep self-pity.
“I’ll bring in some furnishings,” he said, gesturing toward another door off the lavish front room. “But you can sleep on the pink couch tonight. Bathe first, please, I don’t want dust on the cushions.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, climbing off the ground.
Taran smiled brightly. “It seems you’ll be staying. Never had a priest before, but I’ll accept Wesha’s gift despite the spirit in which it…well,youwere given.”
“What?” I protested again.
With a playful, insincere gesture, Taran tapped me on myforehead with one fingertip. “You are Wesha’s pretty little trap, darling, one which I will not be falling into. But I’m happy to steal the bait, found my own temple.”
With that lack of explanation, he turned and walked out of what I’d determined was his personal bathing chamber, and I had to trail behind him. The air of menace was gone. He was almost cheerful.
“I’m not your priestess! I didn’t even know who you were an hour ago.”
Taran waved a hand like this was a minor detail. “Better mine than Wesha’s. I’ll have to think about what your vows will be, but I’m sure they’ll be more lenient than hers. And you’ll have to be someone’s priestess. Trust me, you don’t want to look free for the taking.”
His tendency to treat every turn of events as a cosmic joke had never annoyed me before this moment. “Then are you saying you won’t come with me to the Painted Tower?” I clarified.
“Precisely. I have no interest in seeing Wesha ever again. Which she knows, given the terms we left on. But as you rather unwisely promised that you’ll bring me to her, I suppose you’ll be following me around for the rest of eternity.”
My jaw dropped open at his casual appropriation of my life. “Why would you do that?”
He adroitly stepped around me, expression chiding.
“Don’t be ungrateful. It’s not like I’m the one who came up with your deal. In fact, you’re lucky that I’m being so obliging.” He opened another door in the front room to reveal a bedchamber. “We can discuss the terms of your service tomorrow.”
“I’m also notserving you.”
Taran chuckled again, turning to favor me with a knowing smirk that hurt all the more for its familiarity. “You’re in quite the tangle, aren’t you? Tell me, do mortals make oaths so recklesslybecause they think they’ll only have to abide by them for a few decades before they kick off?”
