“Right,” she said, her voice slurred. “Silk thread,” she muttered to herself. “Disgusting poultices.” She lifted an unsteady hand tothe glass-beaded necklace that draped her collarbones. “Beautiful gifts.” She blinked a few times. “Have I been poisoned?”
“No. The substance you consumed is called dreamfish. It’s an intoxicant. The effects will fade in a few hours.”
“Dream…fish?” She turned away, taking a tottering step away from him. “Need to leave,” she mumbled. “Need to go home.”
“You can’t.” He followed, an arm hovering in case she fell over. “It’s late, and you can barely walk.”
She faltered, and he caught her by the waist. “Careful,” he murmured. Heat raced over him at their closeness. He wanted to separate himself, to put some distance between them, but she hadn’t found her feet yet. Her body was softer than he’d expected, her curves conforming to him in all the right places.
This time, she didn’t jerk away from his touch. “I don’t like this,” she breathed. “I want it to stop. Can’t you make it stop?”
His heart squeezed at the helplessness in her voice. “Only time will do that, I’m afraid.”
She slumped in his hold, head lolling against his shoulder.
“Penthesilea.” He spoke firmly, hoping to bring back her awareness. “Penthesilea, can you hear me?”
Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze settled on his face. “Lea,” she murmured.
“What?”
“My friends…call me Lea.” She sighed.
“Lea,” he repeated. The use of her shortened name felt oddly intimate—as if Penthesilea was that imposing figure in the arena, and Lea was the real woman. “I think it best if you lie down for a while. Sleep it off. You’ll feel better in a few hours.”
“Sleep,” she breathed. “Yes.”
The only place he could take her was his bedroom. He wasn’t sure if she’d be pleased to find herself there when her mind cleared, but at least he could keep an eye on her in the meantime.
He drew her down the corridor, away from the noise of the dining room. They turned a few corners, entering a wing of the palace reserved for staff. It held storerooms, the kitchens, laundry facilities, and the like.
Kallias pushed open the door that led to his office. Beyond it was a connecting room that served as his bedroom, which he pulled Lea into. He leaned Lea against one wall as he hastily lit a lamp. The movement seemed to have renewed her energy somewhat, and she stayed upright without his help.
Her gaze swept over the compact surroundings—a bed that was definitely only big enough for one person, a chest of drawers, a small table and chair.
He pointed to the bed. “You can lie down there.”
She gave him a crooked smirk. “Didn’t think you were that sort of man.”
“What sort?”
“Drugging a defenseless woman…luring her into your bed…”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the least defenseless woman I’ve ever met, and you drugged yourself.”
“I wouldn’t have if you’d told me what that stuff was.” A note of irritation entered her voice, though it was still slurred. “You abandoned me. You ignored me.”
He put a hand on her shoulder, meaning to guide her to the bed. She looped both arms around his neck, and her body sagged against his. Once again, he noticed how verysoftshe felt.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I only ignored you because I had to force myself to stop staring at you. Though I wish I’d warned you about the dreamfish.” But if he had, she wouldn’t be here. In his bedroom, his arms full of her unexpected softness.
“Staring at me?” She tilted her head, the gesture both confused and coquettish.
“You looked very beautiful tonight,” he confessed. He should probably stay away from this line of conversation, but maybe talking would help her feel more alert.
In truth, he’d been struck dumb when he saw her for the first time earlier that night. He’d never envied silk so much for the way it brushed her cheeks and shoulders, or glass beads for how they nestled in the hollows of her collarbones. A sudden urge had overtaken him to bankrupt himself and exchange the glass for emeralds. She deserved real jewels, the finest money could buy.
As if she sensed his thoughts, her fingers went back to the beads at her neck. “Maybe Jason was right,” she mumbled. She glanced up at him through dark lashes. “These gifts mean you want to bed me, don’t they?”
