My breath stills in my lungs. His eyes drag down my form, snagging on my injured thigh, a muscle in his jaw pulsing.
I could let him, but then who’s to say when he’d come? Tonight? Tomorrow? Never? That’s not enough time to get all of Nevoba ready. His grip on the edge of the bath tightens and I realize…he’s bluffing. He has no intention of tying himself to me without a real reason. I huff out a laugh, low and tinged with menace. His eyes widen a fraction as my chin lifts from my hands, bringing our faces a hair’s breadth from one another, all the while a small smile is pinned to my mouth. “Liar.”
His gaze cuts back to mine, cold and glaring. After a beat he says, “You are a nightmare.”
“How can I be a nightmare when you don’t sleep? Or rather you do, but only after you’re done whatever it is you’re doing over there in front of the gods eyes every few nights.”
Zhoric stills, holding this piece of him that I discovered in his piercing gaze, tension drifting off of him in waves. He doesn’t like that I’ve seen it. Or perhaps he doesn’t like that I know something more is happening when he sits out there. It makes me wonder how many others know.
“Insomnia is no serious offense for a king,” he finally says.
“I’ve been watching you for days. You’re not suffering from insomnia alone.”
“No, I seem to be suffering it with you lurking over my shoulder.” His face is perfectly blank as he says this and I have to swallow the urge to laugh. I force a frown on my lips, which I’m certain is not at all convincing given how hard he’s staring at my mouth.
All these years with Ninon has made me good at reading people who rein in their expressions and even with what little of his face has changed at my reaction, I can tell he’s quite pleased with himself.
A possibility then, a small, infinitesimal possibility thatI can enamor him. But I need more reassurance than that. I need something that has him wanting to keep me close instead of pushing me away. Perhaps his loneliness is enough, but I can’t know that for sure. There’s one thing I do know though: he once craved power enough to steal it from the gods. I know that he’s vulnerable on those nights he sits before the gods eyes and I know the elites have pull over him that he can’t possibly want.
“Do your elites know how exhausted you are on those nights? It doesn’t take a sage to figure out your hold on the balance of power here in Dyeus is contrived at best and tenuous at worst.”
There’s a long beat of silence as he stares me down. Then, through clenched teeth, he hisses, each word punctuated, “What do you want from me?”
I blink. I wasn’t intending to extort him, I only wanted him to stop trying to push me away. “Wouldn’t youwantto bond with me then?” I ask quiet, but stern. “Wouldn’t you let me help you?”
“You want to help me.” A statement, not a question.
“No,” I breathe and give him what I have: the truth. “I want to be with my sister again. I want to be free of the Realm. Of the curse.”
“Free is a relative term. Bonded, your dragon would need to remain unleashed, but it’s not as if I could ever let you be seen in that form or else the women of Nevoba might wonder.”
I swallow down the discomfort. “As if hiding who I am isn’t what I’ve done my whole life.”
His eyes narrow. His pulse ticks along the column of his throat in a strong, steady rhythm. “The elites won’t like it.”
Blood rushes through my veins, dizzying me. He’s considering it. He’sactuallyconsidering it. “I hear bonded pairs are powerful. They don’t have to like it.”
A satisfied expression crosses his face for a moment before he wipes it clean. After a beat he says, “I’ll think about it.”
I’m so shocked I jolt up, putting our faces nearly noseto nose. I recover enough to say, “Good.” I wait before sitting back so it doesn’t seem like our nearness intimidated me. “So, whatareyou doing at night in front of the gods eyes?”
He holds my gaze, but doesn’t answer my question. “When I said I would think about it, I meantletme think about it. As in, go away and leave me to my thoughts.”
“Zho—” I start to say his name, mortification thrumming through me as the first syllables roll off my tongue, but before I can finish it, he cuts me off.
“Be content that I’m thinking of what you proposed. Do not speak any more on it and make me regret even that.”
I wet my lips and he tracks the movement. I let myself indulge in the attention. It can’t hurt.
His eyes are dark as they find mine again.
At least, I hope it can’t hurt.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NOW THAT OZIAS knows about Zhoric, he comes to my room the next morning and I tell him all about my night. It’s a relief to finally divulge this strange little secret I’ve been keeping and Ozias is fully enraptured by my story of last night’s encounter.
“Kaisa, you do realize your mission is to seduce him, not threaten him,” Ozias drawls, his easy smile telling me he’s teasing.
