I forced myself to look at him. To see what I had done.
There it was.
Hurt.
Fuck.
Osheen did not try to hide it. He let me see the damage. After a few moments, he dropped his folded arms back down to his sides.
“You and Veyka are mates. But you loved her before that,” he said plainly. Answering the question I had not dared to ask. “When your memories return, you will regret every wound you’ve left. Every barb. They will haunt you for the next thousand years.”
“And what if my memories never return?” I breathed.
There was no looking away from the pity in his eyes as he said, “Then I hope you’re not stupid enough to squander a gift you waited three hundred years to find.”
He bowed slightly at the waist. “If you wish to find me, I will be with Maisri. I am certain she is currently eating her weight in sweets in your queen’s chambers.” Then he left.
I sat alone for a long time.
I’d betrayed Veyka. Osheen was correct, even if I hated it. From every angle, I’d been wrong. I disagreed with her about the amorite; she was living in denial about the true threat the succubus posed. This conflict would be settled on a battlefield, not through ear piercings. But she was young. I was a battle commander with three hundred years of experience. If she trusted me, maybe I could convince her.
But none of that changed what had happened in the great hall. Even if I disagreed, I should not have done so publicly.Those soldiers were nothing. Veyka’s stature was worth more than my pride. Veyka was worth everything.
And I had still been stupid and selfish.
Everything I’d supposedly accused her of being when we first met.
To make matters worse, I’d insulted Osheen, a male who had been nothing but loyal to me and to my queen.
I was back to staring at the door. There were three knots in the wood. Elegant swirls that spun around and around before they found their way and straightened out.
I did not much like the male I was allowing myself to become.
I could not force Veyka to tell me her schemes. But maybe I could earn back her trust. Maybe I could be the male she had fallen in love with.
Maybe I could be worthy of her.
78
VEYKA
The door opened, and I did not need the mating bond in my chest to know who it was. Cyara’s silence said enough.
“Go away,” I said without looking up.
I was writing letters—fucking letters—about the amorite. I’d portioned out what we’d taken from Castle Chariot and would send it with the aerial shifters on to Cayltay and Baylaur. Word still had not come from either city in response to the missives Elayne and I had sent weeks ago.
I should take it myself, through the void.And when I got back, Lyrena would tie me to a chair—little good it would do her. And Arran… was standing right behind me.
“We must speak.”
“You’ve said enough,” I snapped. “High fucking King of Annwyn.”
He did not move. Cyara didn’t either, bless her.
“I should not have countermanded you.”
I dropped the quill.
