She was in the palace of Karstos. In the king’s bedchamber.
“Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” he said, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a small sip. Isla watched his throat as he swallowed before grazing over the rest of him. Half of his body was hidden in shadows, the other half only illuminated by the soft glow of the candle from across the room and the moonbeams from the window. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled almost to his elbows and showed the corded muscles of his forearms. His pale blonde hair was not slicked back and shining as it usually was, but loose and soft, a small piece even drifting down and curling against his forehead. He appeared so normal. Casual. Natural. Like he had when they met in the clearing in Lockhurt.
For the first time, Isla noted that he was rather young. She’d always thought of him as ageless, like the elementals, but he couldn’t be more than ten years older than her. Such a young ruler to have already amassed the subservient fear of an entire kingdom.
She cocked her head to the side. This man in front of her did not look like one who would kidnap and threaten innocent lives. But looks could be deceiving.
“Hello, Your Majesty,” she said, breaking the silent night.
His eyes glinted at her words. “Care for a drink?”
“I didn’t come for a drink.”
“I know.” His lips twitched. “I was wondering when I’d see you. I assume you came for your father and brother, yes?”
“Why else would I be here?”
“I could think of all sorts of reasons.”
Suddenly needing to look away, she turned her head, and her gaze landed on a large piece of parchment resting atop the desk. It was a drawing of a dagger, and as she wandered closer, she saw that it looked very similar to the Dagger of Volnus from the book of her ancestors. The vines twining around the hilt were so finely detailed, the shading and edges so well drawn, that for a moment she believed it was a real dagger.
“Where did you get this?” she asked, motioning to the drawing.
“I drew it.” Her eyebrows quirked up at his answer, and he chuckled. “Are you surprised?”
“That you have hobbies other than tormenting and kidnapping? Yes, actually.”
He stared down at the glass in his hand, his smile fading. “I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. It was a way to pass the time as a boy who didn’t want to pay attention in lessons and eventually became…well, much more than that. It’s a comfort, I suppose, to hold a brush in my hand and know that I am the only one who controls it.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Offering up anything about himself was very unlike him. She swallowed and looked back at the desk, noticing a black leather tome at the corner covering an envelope with the letters “I" and “S” visible in what she recognized as Sebastian’s neat cursive, the rest of the word hidden beneath the book. Scrunching her face and reaching down, her fingers skimmed the thick paper.
Sebastian was instantly behind her, his hand over her outstretched one, blocking her from investigating further. His chest pressed against her back, and she could feel him breathing in, could sense the rapid beat of his heart. A lump caught in her throat at his hand on her skin, a frightening thrill snaking up her arm. She forgot for a moment exactly who he was.
She snapped back to reality and recoiled her hand, slipping to the side of the desk and away from his heat. When she faced him again, a tinge of blue circled the black pits of his eyes.
“How are they?” she asked. “My father and brother. Are they alright?”
“Of course,” he said smoothly, gliding his hands into his pockets, the buttons on his white tunic straining against his chest. “I told you they would be.”
“I’m sorry if I didn’t take your word for it. I’m sure you can see why, since you’re the one who took them in the first place,” she retorted.
“As I’ve said before, I’m not a liar. Not with you.”
Isla fixed her gaze on him. Whowasthis man? He seemed like a completely different person than the callous dark god who’d snuck into her dreams and controlled Kai and Aidan so maliciously.
“Prove it, then. Take me to see them.”
Sebastian bowed his head slightly, a mischievous twinkle back in his eye as he said, “As you wish, Your Highness.”
She froze. “What did you just call me?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t know your family history, Isla Vasileia?” He smirked. “I know more about the legends of Iona than you would think. The infamous rulers of the lost kingdom. You would’ve looked good on a throne, love.”
She shouldn’t be surprised that he knew more about her heritage than she did. Isla gritted her teeth and, before she could stop herself, took a step closer, glaring up at him. She hadn’t realized how much taller than her he was until this moment. “You wouldn’t want me on a throne, Sebastian.”
“And why is that?” His words skated across her cheeks.
“Because I would make wretched men like you kneel at my feet as I cut them down.”
