Nik gave her a small smile. “I’ll admit,” he said, “I don’t know much about Onita’s technology. I know only what I could find inour archives, but, of course, those records are hundreds—if not thousands—of years old.” His mossy gaze darted to her lips, a glance so quick she thought she might’ve imagined it. “Perhaps there is much we can learn from each other.”
This was happening so fast. Too fast. For fuck’s sake, Ciana was still covered in dirt from the road, still dressed in her worn boots and leathers and tunic.
Yet there was the Vathan King, the reason she’d journeyed across the continent, staring at her with open want.
Seriously, what thehellhad Mariah’s letter said?
Ciana swallowed. Might as well use this brazen interest to take a leap.
“Even in Onita, we’ve heard about Vatha’s legendary archives.” She kept her tone light, sweet, innocent. “I would love more than anything to see them one day.”
It was the wrong thing to say. All the warmth in Nik’s expression shuttered. He withdrew, even going so far as to take a small step away.
“Unfortunately,” the king said, his voice taking on a new, unfamiliar coldness, “the archives are closed to only the Royal Family and those we permit to enter. And I don’t yet know you, Lady Visseau.”
Ciana blinked, reeling slightly at the shift in the king. Gone was the warm, flirtatious man who’d personally escorted her to her rooms. In his place stood a king, young to his throne, but loyal to it, nonetheless.
It made Ciana wonder: what was it about the archives that made such a sore spot for the king?
Nik turned toward the door. He halted just before he grabbed the handle. “If you or your companions require anything, please don’t hesitate to summon my staff. They will be more than happy to assist you.” The door swung open, and the Vathan King was gone.
Ciana caught a glimpse of Sebastian’s questioning, vaguely concerned look before the door slammed closed.
With a flourish, Ciana sighed and dropped herself onto one of the blush couches, the lights woven into the branches of the tree twinkling.
Off to a great start, Cee.
Chapter 37
The covered wagon rocked as more white-robed priestesses filed onto the benches.
Anniliese cowered lower into the thin folds of her robes. It wasn’t that it was cold; the summer was fast approaching and even Khento was feeling its warmth. Every girl who stepped into that wagon—and earlier, every person who’d watched her walk through the castle gardens—looked at Anniliese with a concerned wariness that made her want to crawl out of her skin.
She’d once loved that attention. Craved it. Wanted to be the focus of every soirée, the mistress of every party.
Not anymore.
Men shouted outside the canvas walls of their wagon, horses nickering and metal clanking. It added to the clamor of her growing panic, the deep unease settling low and heavy in her stomach.
Kol had ordered the entire castle south, and all of it made her nervous.
No, not just nervous. Terrified.
House Laurent’s forces had finally arrived overnight, their soldiers given no more than twelve hours of rest before the ordercame through to move out. It seemed Gabriel’s punishment last week was successful in that regard. The last holdout of resistance amongst the Royals, burned out with golden flame.
Hergolden flame.
The canvas entrance parted again, and, as if the gods wished to play some sick, mocking game with her, the Laurent heir rode past.
He was slumped on his horse, still healing and very much not well enough to travel but forced to do so anyway. Gabriel Laurent had been a handsome man, wearing all the golden beauty of his Royal Onitan bloodline.
Now the right side of his face was burned almost beyond recognition, ugly raised scars already forming across once-smooth skin. They crawled down his neck, under his tunic. He clutched his arm to his chest, visibly wincing with every step of his horse.
Anniliese tore her gaze away, nausea rising in her stomach.
She’ddone that. This shameful, poisoned magic she’d been cursed with had caused all that harm to a man who very much did not deserve it. Anniliese had met Gabriel a handful of times before that day; had danced with him, as was expected of two young Royal heirs. In another life, she might’ve even been married to him, their two houses joined for the betterment of Onita.
Instead, Queen Ryenne had abdicated the year she was born, and she was not permitted to marry. Because the goddess mandated that married ladies could not be queens.
