Chapter 33
MY EYES ARE GLUED TO the king as he claims a seat on the sofa opposite his two sons. He moves with a grace that belies his age, his stature and build just as formidable and intimidating as Aeson’s and Lorn’s. His silver suit fits impeccably. The collar on the jacket and shirt are a military nod, but the tails that turn into an attached cape and the embroidery on the arms signify his status, not that he needs the help. He could be wearing sand rags, and his regal bearing would still give him away.
I look for anything that might support my suspicions that this drake before me betrayed my father, someone he once considered kindred before having my kith slaughtered. But there isn’t a neon sign flashingguiltyabove his head, and I’m having a hard time seeing him as the monster I’ve made him out to be in my mind. Probably because when I look at him now, I see his two sons, neither of whom fit the profile of heartless butcher or evil plotter.
Vids from when King Noctis was younger have him looking more like Aeson. However, now the king’s hair and neat beard are a beautiful blend of white and black, making him look like a perfect mix of his two scions. His blue eyes fall somewhere in the middle of Lorn’s icy tones and Aeson’s sky blue hue, but they’re filled with a paternal warmth and pride as he takes in the two males sitting across from him.
His hard but handsome features soften as he settles into his seat and gets comfortable, crossing one knee over another and resting his elbow against the arm rest while draping the other across the back of the couch. He picks up a drink that appears to have been waiting for him on the end table, and I notice that Aeson and Lorn have matching glasses with the same large round ice cube and amber liquid.
I instantly know that I’m peeping in on a personal moment between a father and his sons and not just spying on a king and his heirs.
“An offer for my hand?” Aeson snorts, reminding me of what the king was talking about before I got distracted by his mere presence. “Even if I did fancy males, I wouldn’t look twice at that bumbling wind bag.”
Lorn chuckles and the king smiles around a sip of his drink.
“He’s still rather convinced that you and his daughter Claudelle were made for each other and, if I would only facilitate a meeting between you two, that you would see it for yourself.”
“It’s time for Cesarini to cede his chamber seat if he can’t remember that we’ve met his daughter dozens of times already,” Lorn points out, and King Noctis lets loose an amused huff and an agreeing hum.
“I believe he was just trying to get me to admit that Aeson is off the market. It seems the rumor mill has been churning away about a mysterious occupant of a certain someone’s mating suite.” The king’s smile slowly stretches, and a playful gleam alights in his eyes. “How is your little Syphon adjusting?”
Aeson releases a sound that’s half groan, half laugh. “She’s as cagey and cutting as ever.”
I narrow my gaze at the mirror. “I’ll show you cutting,” I grumble at the commander’s firelit profile.
King Noctis chuckles. “Merik was never one to mince words or pull punches. I’m glad to hear that side of him is living on through his little girl. It’ll be a treat to go toe to toe with him again, if only in spirit,” King Noctis declares, his tone wistful and fond.
An ache starts in my chest at the mention of my father, and as much as I want to condemn the king for everything, the longing in his tone falls in line with what I’ve seen from Aeson and Lorn when it comes to the loss of my loved ones.
“She definitely doesn’t pull her punches,” Aeson agrees, purposefully rubbing his jaw.
I huff out a laugh, thinking about what happened earlier in his room when I was trying to get away from him. Then I’m suddenly bombarded with what happened when Ididn’tmanage to escape him, and a flush crawls through me while lust starts to simmer and settle low in my stomach. It seems my attraction to the commander isn’t something I can ignore or control, even though I’m trying hard to do both.
“I take it things are going well, then?” King Noctis asks.
Aeson shrugs. “As well as can be expected for someone who doesn’t trust us and blames us for the death of their kith and kindred. I think she’s starting to nest though. She got very territorial earlier, and she took a mirror from the vaults for her room. She may not understand her instincts just yet, but she’s giving into them all the same.”
My brow furrows at that declaration, but the king’s features suddenly grow serious, and he looks over at Lorn.
“A mirror?” he asks.
Lorn nods and then out of nowhere, the king shifts until he’s suddenly looking directly at…me.
My mind stalls for a moment as we stare at one another. My heart hammers in my head, and I refuse to blink as Kathal Noctis’s intense gaze sucks me in. Instinctually, I start to lean away from the Port as though that will break his hold, and for half of a millisecond, I’m convinced that he can somehowseeme. His gaze starts to blur as mine dries out. I fight the urge to look away, convinced that he’s about to reach through the mirror and pull me through. Then his stare starts to circle where I’m kneeling, and I realize he’s not actually looking at me, he’s simply studying the mirror in his office.
“Her father liked to collect them,” King Noctis mumbles almost to himself, his focus all at once thoughtful and far away.
“She mentioned that when she opened the vault. I think it was the only thing in the Crush that she felt connected to. She didn’t really seem interested in anything else, but that could have been because I was there watching. Like Aes said, she’s cagey.”
King Noctis looks lost in thought for a moment, but then he nods and turns away from the mirror. I blow out a relieved breath as soon as his attention leaves me and returns to his sons.
“I’m glad to hear she’s softening toward you,” he tells Aeson. “I know I don’t need to remind you how important it is that she accepts the claim. If she’s coming around on her own, that’s good. It means we won’t have to take more drastic measures.”
Aeson nods, and I bristle.
More drastic measures?
What in the bloody Bearing does that mean?
