“Ah, that explains it,” the Protector murmured, his voice dropping to an intimate drawl. “Someone was just trying to get a closer look at your radiance. That’s an urge I understand completely.”
A cold trickle of dread ran down her spine. “You’re too kind to me, your eminence.”
“Hardly. But I do believe I asked you to call me Antonin last time we spoke.”
Was Max on a first name basis with you too, asshole?
“My apologies,” she murmured. “With your position and responsibilities, I’d hate to imply favoritism.”
Antonin stepped lightly onto the dais, his hand sliding away to grasp her elbow and guide her up as well. The sun shone through the great stained glass masterpiece of Glory’s window, casting them and the dais in a thousand different colors of light. Glory’s statue, towering but lifeless without a sacred fire lit within it, stared out sightlessly over their heads as Antonin inspected the offerings on the altar.
For half a second, she thought she spied a flickering shadow out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t dare turn her head to see what lurked in the gaps between shafts of colored light.
For once, the thought that something might be in the darkness watching her didn’t unsettle her. Shewantedit to beSilas. He couldn’t save her from Antonin, but having him there made her feel less alone.
Without thinking about it, she lifted a hand to run her fingertips over the delicate gold chain of her necklace. Wild magic thrummed against the sensitive nerves in her finger pads. She could almost hear his southern drawl in her ear.
Thinkin’ about me, baby?
She wished for one awful moment that she could rewind time and go back to the previous day, when he unknowingly chased away her fear with brutal touches and slithering shadows and barked commands.
It was a taste of bliss, letting him take control and wipe away her worries.
But she couldn’t go back. All she could do was hope that he’d do exactly as he said he would, that Elise would get the information, and that something — anything — would come of this.
Petra stood beside Antonin, her heart thundering, and held very still when he leaned in close to whisper, “My dear, there’s no harm in implying favoritism when it’s the truth.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Even knowing it was coming,it was still a shock to be by Antonin’s side for hours. She’d planned. She’d agonized. She’d practiced what she’d say and how she’d act.
None of it prepared her for the way being friendly with the man tore her in two.
Petra existed outside of her body as she gave the Protector his tour through the facilities. They chatted amiably, even flirtatiously, as if some foreign being inhabited her body while the real Petra huddled in the back of her mind, screaming into her palms.
The only thing the being in control of her couldn’t handle was his touch. Antonin seemed to take every excuse to lay his hands on her, though it was carefully calculated to never cross any polite boundaries — just push them. She thanked the gods for her staff, who despite their anxiety seemed grimly intent on having at least one person with them at all times. Petra wasn’t sure what he’d do without an audience, or even if said audience was a true deterrent for a man like him, but she was fiercely grateful for her staff all the same.
Unfortunately, it was imperative that he not suspect anything, so Petra was forced to endure most of it, though shedid manage to slip away once or twice under the guise of coy flirtation.
The minutes dragged as she danced on the edge of a knife. Adrenaline was a constant hum in her blood. Fight or flight instincts battled with her need for calm, with the masks she’d worn for so long. As dinner approached, Petra would have done just about anything to be able to run screaming from his side, but there was no reprieve, no escape, and certainly no chance for her to look into his eyes and demand answers he’d never give her.
When it became too much, Petra imagined Silas. She pictured him skulking around the cathedral, those molten eyes gleaming in the dark. She imagined his cold, dangerous smile as he slipped into Antonin’s suite and rifled through his things as he’d so gleefully done to her.
She pictured him there, standing just behind her, keeping her safe even as she stood in the path of disaster.
Their tour ended at the door to Antonin’s suite. Two guards flanked it. They were joined by the two who’d trailed the Protector throughout the tour. All of them wore the same blank expression and not once did they speak a word.
Standing between his guards, Antonin lifted her right hand to his lips for a lingering kiss to her knuckles. Her skin crawled.
He didn’t lower her hand right away, but rather rubbed his thumb over the tops of her fingers. “Not even one ring? You wear a shocking lack of jewelry, my dear.”
His tone made it impossible for her to decipher whether that was a rebuke or not, so Petra settled on a neutral answer. “I prefer to keep attention on Glory, not my body.”
Antonintsked.“There’s no way to outshine the goddess of the sun. Gilding yourself in jewelry that reflects her light is an act of worship and a sign of your station.” He gave her fingers a quick, slightly too-tight squeeze and met her eyes over the ridgeline of her knuckles. “I’ll have pieces shipped here for you. You should always sparkle, my dear, particularly when you stand beside me.”
She knew he assumed what her answer to his proposition would be. No one would be stupid enough to turn a bond withhimdown, after all. But it was deeply jarring to hear his confidence aloud.
Worried her hand would begin to shake, Petra gently extracted it from his own. She covered the tactical retreat with a featherlight touch to his arm. Disgust scalded her when he gave her a heavy-lidded look of approval.
