I hurry my steps to catch up to him as we make our way out of his private suite and into the castle’s main halls. I was never around the castle this late at night. Alixor kept our meetings lively, choosing activities over romantic strolls at twilight, though he occasionally mixed in a few. After dark, myself and all the women who were not yet ready to reproduce were locked into our rooms. It had felt respectful. Though not safe. I knew what the dragons were capable of and a solid wood door and an iron lock meant nothing.
The castle, glittering white and splendid in the daylight, feels hollow and devoid of life at this hour, save for the sentinels lining the halls. Those we pass bow low in his presence, eyes to the ground—but as we move down a new corridor, I notice the sentinels here turn their heads to keep an eye on him. I frown, unsure what to make of that.
Zhoric pauses outside a set of large doors, inset with gold ornamentation among the carved patterns.The sentinels standing guard outside hesitate before opening them to allow us—or rather, Zhoric—into the suite. The smell hits me first. Strong, exotic florals that I remember well, and immediately I know who’s room we’re in. The setup is nearly identical to Zhoric’s, but dressed lavishly in garnet colored drapes and gold accents. Every surface is adorned with glass trinkets and an assortment of glittering treasures, as if he were hoarding the beauties of the world.
As we make our way deeper into the suite, the space opens up to the bathing chamber, the air thick with steam and that thick floral scent. The rear wall is entirely made up of looking glass so that everything in the room is reflected back at us. Zhoric stands alone, not a whisper of me at his side. In a bath partially sunken into the floor and twice the size of Zhoric’s, Selnor is spread out with water up to his chest, his muscular arms resting wide along thelip of the tub, his gold blonde hair slicked back from his forehead. On either side of him in the bath are two women, and outside sitting on either side of his head are two more, all naked, faces devoid of expression except for a gentle tilt of their lips. One woman holds a decanter of wine and the other has an assortment of fruits and cheeses on a tray in front of her. All four of the women are eerily still, but most unnerving of all are their ears. Smooth and round on the tops, instead of gently pointed like ours. A shudder wracks my body, realization punching me hard in the gut. Are these…humans?
“I was beginning to think you’d never show your face.” Selnor’s voice seeps out, dull and listless on the thick steam.
“Selnor. It’s been a while,” Zhoric drawls. Nerves tickle along my spine. This is the way I remember the Sar Dyeus sounding and I realize that when he speaks to me in private, when I’m in his rooms, he doesn’t sound this way.
“Yes, seeing as how you’ve made yourself scarce since my son was murdered by that harridan.”
A muscle tenses in Zhoric’s jaw. “I was under the impression as king it wasyourduty to be at my beck and call, not the other way around.”
A slippery smile glides onto Selnor’s face. “You and I have never had that kind of relationship.” The women at his side giggle and draw nearer to him, their hands moving across his shoulders.
Zhoric’s gaze narrows. “I’ve told you before that humans are not your playthings to manipulate.”
“I needed your attention. I’ve had these nearly a week and you’ve only just come. What has you so occupied these days?”
Zhoric doesn’t deign to answer him. “Return them to their homes.”
“Their homes? You mean the haunted towns I’ve plucked them from? They’re much happier here.”
The women sigh and nod. One of them looks to us, her eyes seeming to find mine. They’re vacant, as lost as a hare shot clean through. My breath hitches and my hand clutches Zhoric’s wrist. His other hand comes across his body toclasp mine.
“I requested you contact that heathen Ozias. Have you done so?” Selnor asks, holding out a hand to one of the women outside the tub. She dutifully places a glass of wine into his grasp.
“You know I haven’t.”
Selnor takes a slow, careful sip, then hands the glass back to the woman. “I want her.”
I furrow my brow and look down, a lump forming in my throat. Zhoric’s fingers haven tightened around my hand—and though it must be my imagination, I feel it.
“You can’t have her.” Zhoric’s words ring through the chamber and the silence in the aftermath of is deafening. My pulse pounds under my skin. “She’s the rogue’s problem now.”
Quick as an asp, Selnor slams his fist down, cracking the stone surrounding the bath. “I want herhead!” I jump, but the women around Selnor remain still, doing as they were without any disturbance. Zhoric doesn’t react at all.
“You want her power. Let’s not pretend we both don’t know of her potential.”
“That youhid,” Selnor spits.
Zhoric only stares. “Clearly, I did so for a reason.”
Selnor takes the wine glass, swirls the contents around, but instead of sipping on it, he sets it down on the edge of the tub. “Ozias’s presence here the night of Alixor’s breeding ceremony was rather convenient. One might think it was a highly orchestrated ordeal.” Selnor spins the glass, the scrape of it against stone grating against my ears.
“If it were, it would have been the greatest mistake I’ve made thus far. Perhaps save for putting my trust in you.”
My mind whirls and I’m unsure where it will land after this. What is Zhoric doing? Why is he letting me hear this?
Selnor tuts, a look of weary disappointment pulling at his mouth. “Your melodrama is an ever-tedious endeavor. I thought we were past all that.”
“And yet you’re the one sneaking around taking things he shouldn’t, like a child begging for attention.” Zhoric leans forward a fraction. “I give you silence and you operatewithin the guidelines I’ve set.”
“And that has worked until it got my son murdered.”
“You chose to forget the power women have. I may have buried it within them, but there are still those who will dig it from the very cavity of their chests when pinned in a corner. She is dangerous and yet he chose her.Thatis what got your son murdered. Kaisa was never supposed to be an option. For anyone.” I can’t help flinching at the harshness of his words. It reminds me of my mother’s biting comments, condemning me to a life alone after bearing offspring for Alixor. I move to pull my hand away, but Zhoric only holds on tighter.
