He pressed another, softer kiss to her lips. “I know, and I do have to get back to the investigation, but… do you think you might come back to my room later?” His expression was more vulnerable than she’d ever seen. “I know it’s just a pretense, that you stayed with me to help Shane, but?—”
“No,” she started. Luka frowned, stiffening. It was his turn to pull back, and she could already see the shutters closing on his heart, but she didn’t let him go. “That’s not what I meant. Yes, I will come to your room.” There were obstacles—confusion, hurt, and years of missed opportunities—between them, but he had to know the truth about this. She met his eyes. “But I was not pretending.”
“Okay.” A rumble, that sounded a lot like a purr, filled the space between them, and his lips twitched up into a half smile. “Neither was I.”
Izzy’s beast purred too, pushing to get closer, as close as physically possible. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her as if he was as reluctant to let go as she was. As if he could also feel the lost years between them. The unspoken grief they’d shared since Rayan’s death.
She lowered her voice. “I’m so angry with Shane for holding this back.”
Luka’s embrace tightened as he nodded his agreement. She could feel tension rolling off him in waves. They’d both trusted their friend—their prince—but now everything was different.
They parted slowly, and Izzy watched as Luka let himself out of the room with one last look back at her before quietly closing the door. Then she turned back to the dead young woman on the table.
Chapter
Eighteen
Luka droppeda courteous bow to Lady Kaliska, forcing a smile even though she’d kept him waiting for over an hour as the afternoon wore away.
He’d rather be with Izzy—and after that, almost anywhere else—but he had to find the assassin, and that meant polishing up his rusty diplomacy skills and interviewing the people who might know something.
Brigadier General Declan scowled at him from one pace behind Kaliska’s shoulder, and a row of Kwanam guards stood attentively along the wall. Kaliska looked sad. Her hands were clasped demurely, and her glittering court dress was pristine, but her shoulders hunched over slightly, and her eyes were puffy.
She led him to a set of luxuriously brocaded sofas and gestured for Luka to sit as she perched elegantly across from him. A young Kwanam page poured them each a dainty cup of tea and then returned to his place at the wall, while the brigadier general took up a place directly at Kaliska’s back.
This is not good use of our time, his beast rumbled.We should take Izzy somewhere safe. Then we can bite Melo—theway she spoke to Izzy is unacceptable—and burn down Shane’s office. Then…
Luka ignored his beast’s voice and continued as if it wasn’t plotting destruction at the back of his mind.
“Thank you for seeing me, Lady Kaliska,” he said politely. “I’m very sorry about your cousin.”
“It’s been a shock,” she murmured in her melodious accent.
“Do you mind if I ask you some questions about her?” Luka asked.
Kaliska turned her head slightly, tilted toward Declan, even as she said, “Not at all.”
Luka glanced at the brigadier general. Had Declan tried to stop this meeting? Declan’s scowl deepened at his perusal, but Luka ignored him as he returned his focus to Kaliska. “Lady Narya was your cousin and your lady-in-waiting. Were you friends?”
“Yes. She was my family.” Kaliska shot a brief look at Declan, and this time Luka was almost certain they’d disagreed about her meeting with him. Declan crossed his arms over his chest, his expression stony, but Kaliska continued, “And we were allies.”
“Allies?” Luka prompted.
“We looked out for each other,” Kaliska said softly.
Luka waited for a moment, hoping she would fill the silence, but she stayed quiet, watching him warily. Declan shifted his weight pointedly.
“Can you tell me about her?” Luka asked eventually. “Did you share hobbies? Interests?”
“Narya was an excellent archer and wonderful with horses. She loved adventure. She loved the glitter and the excitement of parties and people.” Kaliska gave him a wan smile. “She and I were quite different. I miss the desert. I miss my sand and the glass. I miss my furnace. I prefer quiet. But we were together alot. We traveled to many courts, and we watched each other’s backs.”
“You’re a glass-smith?” Luka asked, surprised. No one had ever mentioned that.
“Not really,” Kaliska replied, just as Declan said, “Yes. An accomplished one.”
A tiny smile lifted the corner of Kaliska’s mouth. Declan’s opinion meant something to her. Something important.
Gods of fire. How is a woman of the desert, longing for solitude, ever going to be happy on the Hugaebian throne with Shane? What a mess.
