I watch the king carefully as he processes what I just said. Every word is true, or true enough to pass muster. He doesn’t need to know that I’ve personally hunted enough Relacours and Relacour relatives to confirm that my theory is correct. The Syphons know that particular line of Blood Crafters is to blame for our broken natures. For the longest time, we thought we had to track down those who initially invoked the curse in order to break it, but thanks to a particularly whiny and motivated relative that I interrogated and then killed, we know there’s a loophole when it comes to blood magic.
“If anyone can help me, it will be their Matron.”Their Conduit, I finish, but only to myself. If the king knows what that is, it’s not in my best interest to tell him that I know too. And if he isn’t in the loop, that’s not my problem either. “Blood magic trapped my dragon, which means blood magic is the way to release it.”
I sit back and give him time to consider what I’ve revealed. Silence stretches between us long enough for the shadows in the room to shift. An unseasoned liar would fight the need to fill the pervasive quiet, but I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears greenling. I know the king is searching for anything that might indicate deception or hint that there’s more to the story.
There is…there always is. A wise person knows that. But is King Noctis wise? Will he take a leap of faith on behalf of his friend and former king? Will he help me? Or have I misjudged this situation like I have so many times with his sons?
The king’s body language and any hint of what he might be thinking is locked down tight. It’s an impressive and intimidating poker face, probably the best I’ve ever seen, which makes sense. As the king, I imagine he’s had plenty of practice mastering every tic, blink, and breath.
“What you’re saying has merit. I’d probably draw the same conclusions that you have…”
I sense a definitivebuttrailing those words, and the flash of relief that just flickered through me morphs into misgiving.
“You’re right, Blood Crafters are a difficult ilk to track down, and for good reason. Reasons I’m not keen to ignore or supersede…not for justanyone, that is.”
My brow furrows as I try to pick through the word salad he just tried to serve me. The king drops his ankle from his knee and once again leans back in his seat. It’s his power position, one that’s easy to recognize because he used it on Aeson and Lorn. And with that, I realize I’ve just entered a negotiation, only I’ve been left in the dark as to what the terms are.
“Oookaaay,” I hedge, warily studying the king. “And whowouldyou ignore those valid reasons for?”
An impressed twinkle enters his blue gaze. His shrug is insouciant, but his smile is predatory. “My sons. I’d do almost anything for them. And of course, that same trusted consideration would be given to their…mates.”
My breath stalls and the wasps in my stomach fully defrost and begin to buzz with a renewed fury.
Is he serious right now? Is he really trying to leverage my fucked-up curse with an arranged mating?
King Noctis stares at me, a look in his eyes that totes victory. My answering glare is fulminating, but I manage to keep my tone even. I cant my head in consideration.
“I did hear something about an interest in aligning with me because of…what was it?” I ask absently as I tap my chin. “Oh, that’s right, political influence.” I shake my head disapprovingly. “I would think a loving father, such as yourself, would want more than just that for their son.”
King Noctis chuckles. “Of course I want more for him than just that. I want his happiness above all else. And if you think Aeson’s interest in you starts and stops with the political advantages, then you haven’t been paying attention to what’s been happening around you like you should,” he tells me cryptically.
What the fuck does that mean?
I haven’t been paying attention?
All Idois pay attention. I overanalyze every-fucking-thing, and then I plot and plan accordingly. I heard them with my own cursed ears talking about my influence and how important it was that I accept Aeson. So what in the bloody stars does he think I missed when it comes to his son and thissituation?
I rub my temples, the long day finally starting to catch up with me in the form of an oncoming headache and the disappearance of the last vestiges of my patience.
“Let me get this straight,” I snap. “If I agree to mate your son, you’ll help me track down the Relacour Matron and break my curse? Do I have that right?”
The king straightens like he knows he has me up against the ropes and he’s ready to deliver the final blow.
“Close, but not exactly. I will arrange a meeting with Matron Relacour, but I can’t guarantee that she will break the curse. In exchange, you’ll agree to mate Aeson, regardless of the outcome of your meeting or whether your curse is broken or not.”
I reel back at that, my face scrunching with confusion. “But if I can’t reveal, if I’m not a full dragon, I can’t bond. The mating would be incomplete…it would be deficient from the very start,” I argue.
He doesn’t look concerned in the slightest by anything I just said. It’s almost like he knows something I don’t. While really fucking frustrating, that isn’t exactly surprising. I wasn’t raised by dragons, so what I don’t know about my own kind can probably rival the grains of sand in the deadlands.
King Noctis offers me a warm smile that only serves to deepen my glower. “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
“I want time to think about this,” I counter.
“That’s fine with me,” he surprisingly agrees, and then he suddenly rises from the sofa.
I scramble to stand too, bewildered as to what’s going on.
Is that it?
