Shouldn’t you be busy dancing with your almost betrothed?I shoot back waspishly.
She’s not my... Where are you?
None of your business.
He growls.It is my business when Masišta is no longer here. I told you that you could be in danger. Don’t be reckless, Suraya.
I hiss out a tight breath, unnatural jealousy riding me.Why don’t you ask your fiancée? It’s her father, after all. Perhaps this is all part of some great plot I contrived to assassinate you.
Then I fling up my walls and block any further connection.
Sands, I hate that I’m so pathetic.Whyam I feeling this unhinged?
My eyes sting as I hasten up the stone steps. When I reach my quarters, I dismiss Ziba and the handmaidens with a forced smile. I don’t want anyone to witness whatever this is. Chest aching, I remove the king’s necklace, wanting to fling it away. Instead, I clutch the opal in my fist and feel the hopeless tears streak down my cheeks. Gods, what did I think? That the precious gift had meant something? ThatImeant something? A sob catches in my throat as I set the necklace carefully on the dresser.
I kick away my slippers and tear off my stockings before dragging the pins out of my hair, feeling the heavy curls loosen to fall down my shoulders. Then I curse because I’ve sent everyone away and the stupid fastenings for the dress are on my back, which means I’m stuck. Unless... I reach for my dagger and prepare to cut the bodice, when I’m reminded that the material is impenetrable. Damn every spelled thing in this wretched place!
Suddenly, the bedchamber door flies open and crashes into the wall.
“What are you doing?” I shriek, as a wild-eyed Darrius peers around the room, onyx sword drawn. His gaze snags on the dagger in my hand, and he lets out a savage growl. His eyes flash gold.
“Why the dagger? Is there someone here?” he demands, his stare scouring me from head to toe. “Where’s your necklace?”
I narrow my eyes at his tone but stay calm, not wanting to bait his temper more and incite a shift—especially not when the tournament is imminent. Surreptitiously, I wipe my face, hoping he doesn’t notice my reddened eyes. “No one is here. And the necklace is over there.”
He doesn’t look happy about that when he spots it. “You’re certain no one followed you?”
“I’m fine. There’s no one else here, Darrius. I dismissed the handmaidens.” I wasn’t paying attention as to being followed, but there are guards posted everywhere. “Are you expecting an attack?”
“I’m always prepared for that.” He breathes in deeply, expression troubled. “What you did with the basilisk, even with your magic contained, heightens the threat. I don’t trust anyone not to abduct you for their own ends. With your magic restricted by those cuffs, you’ll be defenseless.”
I lift my dagger. “Not entirely defenseless. And why would they do that?”
“Anahima says that for some reason the Aspacana believe you can cure thisrotthat has been plaguing the steppes.”
I frown. They do? “Why would they think that?”
“Your magic cured the basilisk before its death. Word of that has spread.” Finally convinced that I’m not overlooking assassins under the bed, he lowers his sword and sheathes it into his scabbard with a deep sigh. “I am sorry to have barged in here, but I was worried. Masišta and Azes both vanished when you left the feast. And I know you’re not defenseless, but you are vulnerable.”
“Why do you care so much? Weren’t you occupied with Zahre?” I can’t help but say.
Obsidian eyes meet mine as Darrius stalks closer. “Jealous, Starbright?”
“Hardly,” I lie. “You seemed busy, that’s all.”
“She means nothing,” he says, scraping a hand over his chin. “She was a possible alliance when I thought things would go differently.”
“With your rejected soul-fated,” I interject, tucking my dagger back into the harness wrapped around my thigh. “Ani told me.”
The king lets out a humorless groan. “My sister can be painfully direct at times, and while I love her for her plain-speaking, this is not one of those moments.” He bends and looks at me. “Why have you been weeping? Your eyes are red.”
“I haven’t,” I whisper, but a lone tear trickles out, disproving my words.
“Please don’t cry,” he says softly. “None of this is what you think.”
“Then what is it?” I swipe viciously at my cheek. “Gods, why do Ifeellike this?”
Eyeing me, he inches closer, each step making my lungs contract, though I refuse to move. “Do you know it is nearly impossible to break a soul-fated bond once a pair unites? At first, it’s a chain reaction of alchemy and magic, biology and physiology. And then a fated bond becomes an irresistible force—there’s no evading it once certain parameters are met.”
