Aimilia sank back into the seat and the maid was silent, hands shaking as she kept trying to do Aimilia’s hair.
Was she right?
Gavril and Marcella couldn’t have children.
Which meant Nikiashadto get married and have an heir.
But he’d taken a glass to the face rather than entertain the idea of marrying anyone else.
Why?
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Aimilia stared at her own pale, hollow expression.
She brushed the pad of her thumb over her lips. The phantom feeling of his arms around her haunted her.
Nikias wasn’t capable of loving anyone but Faustina… right?
Chapter 47
NIKIAS
Nikias tried not to watch the estate doors, holding his breath every time they opened and hoping it would be Aimilia stepping outside next. It wasn’t.
The courtyard was quickly filling up with the members of House Mitis and the other Runai invited to attend Commander Vires’ funeral. Nikias and his mother stood to the side in silence.
Nikias had nothing to say to her at the moment, and she’d said everything she’d had to say the night before when he met with her after Aimilia had run off.
The only thing he’d focused on while his mother ranted and raved about Aimilia was the sight of her looking back at him.
If she was determined still, despite everything that had happened, to compete and never marry him, why had she looked back?
He could hear the whispers when the Runai did put together it was just him and his mother in attendance. Everyone knew what it meant. His mother had confirmed it to him the night before.
Nikias’ father wasn’t there because he physically couldn’t be.
The little bursts of strength he’d managed had all gone after the attack on the stadium. He didn’t have long left.
Nikias’ first instinct at the revelation was relief, but then it sank in what that would mean. Imperia would fall to his shoulders. While his father would no longer be around to beat him into submission, it meant Nikias would be the one with all the responsibility. And his father’s death did not also remove the problem of his mother. She would still be just over his shoulder, trying to control him for years to come.
And if Nikias thought their pressure on him to follow through with their deal and get married was bad now, his mother would be ten times worse if Nikias was king.
And Aimilia still didn’t love him. So he couldn’t marry her.
Two more emerged from the main house, but again, it wasn’t who Nikias wanted to see. Actually, it was the last person he wanted to see at the moment.
Lieutenant Turpis.
He narrowed his eyes and didn’t bother to mask his scowl as Turpis and Commander Prisca wove their way through the courtyard. He couldn’t expect them not to come, given their proximity. He cursed himself for giving them the position Aimilia had been coveting.
Nikias didn’t like the way Turpis looked at Aimilia.
There was something cold and calculated and hungry in it.
But the last thing he was going to do was upset Aimilia by making a scene at the funeral, so Nikias clasped his hands behind his back, a breeze rustling his cloak. He glanced down briefly at the black fabric. It was strange to be back in his mourning clothes.
He’d once thought they would be the only thing he ever wore again, but after having finally shed them last year, there was something off about them now. Like they no longer fit, even though his size hadn’t changed at all.
