“Don’t go ruining all of my surprises,” he says, thumb running along my lower lip.
“It’s no surprise when I’m groomed to know what to expect.”
His mouth twists up into a smile. “Then humor me.”
I clench my teeth as I return his smile, knowing that’s all I do anyway. Humor him, pretend to like him, make him like me, all to make this process as harmless as it can be until the moment he releases me. I refuse to be another womb, another mother with her heart split in two.
“The banquet won’t be for a few hours yet,” he says. “You should get ready, though. I’ll escort you to your rooms.”
Alixor moves to grab my hand, but I hesitate, making him frown. “My nephew,” I say. “Can I see him first? My sister asked and I won’t be able to concentrate on us until I see him.” She didn’t ask, but I need to see him with my own eyes to make sure he’s alive and as well as he can be without his mother.
“Ah,” he says, understanding smoothing his features. “I see.”
“Please,” I beg, letting my lashes flutter.
He searches my face, a small smile playing on his lipsbefore he sighs, deep and resigned. Sometimes I can’t believe how easy he is to manipulate. “I can’t go with you. Access is restricted, and strictly speaking only sires and nursemaids are allowed, but I think it would be good for you to see him.”
I try not to appear too eager as I ask, “Where is he?”
He hesitates. “The west wing.”
His words take me by surprise, my head swimming. “Oh.” I’ve explored this castle from every angle I could, except the west wing. I never knew that’s where the nursery was. Why should it be? The west wing was the Sar Dyeus’s personal suite.
“It’s fine,” he reassures. “The nurses will be there, they won’t mind, but don’t enter if you see any of the males and whatever you do, don’t go past the nursery’s entrance. The Sar Dyeus has wards to his personal suites—dangerous ones. I don’t want anything happening to you, so be careful.”
A nervous energy vibrates through my limbs. I nod, and Alixor pulls me so my cheek is pressed to his chest.
“Thank you,” I say, returning his embrace.
His hand slips up to cup the back of my neck, tilting my head back. “I expect a more intimate thank you later.” His mouth lands on mine and I sink into the feeling of his lips. We’re both only doing what we need to. I try not to blame him for the situation he’s put me in.
“I’m sure I can think of something,” I say as I pull back and leave him, making my way around the castle to the west wing.
CHAPTER SIX
IN ALL OF my visits to Dyeus over the years, I’ve never had any desire to go to the west wing. The moment I learned that’s where the Sar Dyeus most often kept himself, I steered clear. I’ve already raised enough flags for him; first with being undesirable and second by being chosen by Alixor, anyway. Who’s to say what might happen to me if I caused any more trouble for him than I already had.
The hall leading into the west wing is wide and quiet. From the smooth floors to the sharp detailing adorning the tops of the columns, to the sloped concave arches of the ceilings, everything is a pristine white, like glistening round clouds on a sun filled day. But as beautiful as it is, it feels empty, desolate. Entering the hall, I hear the babble of little mouths, the cries and screams of babes. It’s the only thing that feels alive in this space and I hurry down the hallstowards it, not another soul in sight.
I peek around the doors to the nursery and see a tall figure standing by the windows on the opposite side of the room. I duck away before I can tell who it is, hoping I wasn’t seen. Of course a nursemaid would be here. Someone had to watch over the children after all. I only hope she’ll let me see my nephew.
Slowly this time, I step into the opening and stop in my tracks, motionless as a stone column. Not a nursemaid after all, but the Sar Dyeus, looking over a small bundle in one of the cots. I take a step back, sure he didn’t see me, hoping he didn’t hear my approach, when his voice—deep, melodic, pleasant—floats over to me. “Come to see what’s in store for you?” He lifts his head, my gaze captured by a pair of dark eyes.
Every hair along my spine and the back of my neck stands at attention. My voice is trapped in my chest, but I swallow and decide to go for the truth. “My sister’s child.”
“He’s lovely,” he says, turning back to the baby.
My breath stills.My sister’s baby. He’s looking at my sister’s baby. I have the sudden urge to bare my teeth. “That’s him?”
A strong, smooth pale hand raises, silently beckoning me over. I hesitate, but I want to see my nephew, and it’s not as if I can deny the Sar Dyeus in any case. So I step inside the nursery and stand across the cot from our great ruler. My nephew sleeps soundly, his cheeks rosy and round. My body relaxes as I stare at him for a long while, momentarily forgetting the Sar Dyeus’s presence until he speaks again. “You know Alixor has tried before.”
I tense, hoping he doesn’t notice. I didn’t know that, nor does it matter. Not to me. I lift my head and find him staring at me, his black eyes not exactly black, but a deep, deep green. I’ve never been this close to him before to have noticed. Even during my selection ceremony, there was more distance, more darkness between us. His hair, longer on top than it is on the sides and at the nape of his neck, is starting to lose hold of its usual slicked back look. I don’t dare respond.
“Perhaps it was the woman. Perhaps it was him,” he goes on.
Still I don’t speak. His lips, full and wide, tremble—annoyed, amused, or about to say more, I’m not sure.
“He won’t like to fail again.”
