The only time I’d ever worn cosmetics was for Harthon’s Citadel gathering, when he’d threatened his people with death after his men attacked me. Frannie and Felda had smeared a clear gloss on my cheeks, eyelashes, and lips, brightening my face.
I hadn’t enjoyed the experience, but now, I found myself wishing for a tub of that gloss as I braided my hair in the mirror. Exhaustion and stress painted a morose picture across my face, clearly evidencing the turmoil of the last several days.
Just a cabinet meeting, then sleep,I reminded myself.
Well, hopefully sleep. It could just be another night of nightmares.
A knock on my door yanked me from that pitiful thought. I tied off the top of my black leather vest, which cinched tightly over a long-sleeved purple tunic, and went to the door. Behind it was Harthon, garbed in the ebony ensemble I’d come to recognize as his “I’m your Princeps” attire. He’d clearly bathed.
Assuming he was here to lead me to the cabinet meeting, I silently stepped forward. But his palm landed on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. All I’d done was bring myself closer to him, so much so that I could smell the musk and leather mixed with an earthy soap clinging to his skin.
It was the same scent that’d curled around me when we’d slept in the same bed.
The same scent I’d gotten lost in when we’d kissed and my body had gone up in flames.
I peered up, all too aware of his size and the heat of his hand on my tunic. I felt every change in pressure as his fingers molded to my shoulder, securing his grip even though I’d already stopped walking.
Lips set in a grim line, he said, “Before we go, I need to ask you something.”
I waited for his question, knowing it wasn’t a request.
His hold remained as the tanned skin between his brows wrinkled. “With Koerlyn, you said you were restrained to a bed. Did he hurt you?” he asked softly.
I slowly blinked as I realized what he was asking. And he was asking it with such quiet intensity, like sayingyeswould send him into a rage. As if the thought of me, his “traitor,” being treated as a prisoner would make him raze Third to the ground.
But I’d never know if that was true.
“He never hurt me in that way.”
“Would you tell me if he had?”
“There’d be no advantage to lying. And whether or not he had wouldn’t make a difference in my purpose here or what you think of me.”
“No, it wouldn’t make a difference in your purpose,” he affirmed. He leaned closer, his chin nearly brushing the top of my head. For some reason, I didn’t feel the urge to step back. “But your response—the truth—matters, Etarla.”
Why?
What would he do if my answerwasyes? Hug me, soothe me, hunt Koerlyn down this very moment—if he was still alive—and slaughter him?
Too tired to ask any of those questions, I said, “Koerlyn never touched me like that. He never showed interest, even when he took me that first time. It seems he prefers to torture me with the pain of others, not my own, for whatever reason.”
And I wasn’t sure which was worse.
While some of his stark intensity melted away, the tension in his frame remained. “Koerlyn has always preferred gory violence to other kinds. He also cares deeply about optics. He wouldn’t want to have a damagedmagvisby his side.”
Physicallydamaged, anyway.
When I didn’t say that out loud, he exhaled and peeled his palm from my shoulder. It found another home on my lower back, guiding me down the hall beside him. Every step was a battle to separate my foot from the stone beneath it and keep my body upright.
“The cabinet will arrive shortly after us. Do you remember what to say?” he asked.
Recalling our discussion in the library, I nodded. I hadn’t allowed Jac to take me to Koerlyn, but had been taken by hired mercenaries. The lie didn’t reflect well on Harthon, nor on my abilities as an all-powerful being, but it was better than admitting I’d run away. Koerlyn hadn’t had dinner with me, and I’d easily escaped on my own. My time in Third had been entirely uneventful.
“The meeting shouldn’t be terribly long. If it seems to be going that way, I’ll have Stefano take you back once your part is finished. You need rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“Perhaps,” he acquiesced, but as we climbed a set of stairs and my breathing grew labored, he tacked on, “But if I tell you to leave, you will. And youwillrest.”
