“Of course.” Ryssa’s airy, distorted voice returned. “I’m sorry to intrude. No guards were outside and…I’d worried that someone might be harming you.”
“No, no…” I winced against the light cast in from the window. “It was just a nightmare.” Regaining a normal rhythm of breath, I tried to convince myself that I was here, in bed, and not at that brothel. Not in the throne room.
What had those been? Not dreams…they were too real.
I sat up in bed, letting the blankets pool at my waist. This room felt wrong with its golden arches where I still expected silver and marble, black where I expected Luz blue. The ceilings were too high, and the air was too cold and dry.
I missed home—especially the laughter around my parents’ quaint dinner table each week. My mother had returned to Luz, and I’d promised to visit soon yet hadn’t.
The world of my past life grew so distant from my new life, even if the Egresses made it simple to visit.
The only people who constantly surrounded me were nobles with questions I did not have answers to.
Ryssa stared down at me through that gauzy, charmed maroon veil before glancing away toward the window. I became acutely aware of my state of undress.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling the covers up. Thankfully, I’d at least left on my breeches. “I take it this is not how you expected your day to begin.”
Nervous-sounding laughter came from behind the veil. “Barging into my new King’s bedchamber? No, that is not how I imagined it—and also my day started hours ago. I’ll step out and give you a moment.”
As soon as she left the room, I couldn’t help but smirk as I ran a hand down my face. At least she was good-humored.
My humor faded when I caught sight of my fingertips…They looked as though they’d been stained by coals from a fire. I sucked in a breath as all the blood in my body went cold.
I put on gloves, new breeches and a light tunic before leaving my bedchamber and telling a maid in the hall I intended to go for a ride. She agreed to have the grooms prepare Bishar, my horse.
Asterie and Fenris had frequently checked in for tea since I’d moved here. Their concerned countenances had grown exhausting to see. Amara also visited often; she seemed always to be searching my face for the ghost of a man I’d never known. It was a lonely feeling being in the presence of my old friends.
I hoped no one would come by Helos today before the council meeting.
My only solace was my afternoons spent with Lady Ryssa. Every day, she arrived at noon for tea.
I stepped down the gaudy halls to find her, hoping she hadn’t seen my now-concealed hands. The men who’d attacked Luz with dark magic had had coal-covered fingertips too.
I found Lady Ryssa in the sitting room, and she poured me bluebell vine tea and stirred in sugar. I’d picked up an acquired taste for it from Sybilla. At times, I longed for my former Queen’s company, and yet I had grown too stubborn to forgive her.
A question haunted me—why would my dearest friend have kept the most life-altering secrets from me for over a decade? The Source magic in my veins, the throne I was heir to. It was unforgivable.
“Good morning. Again.” Ryssa’s muffled voice greeted me as she handed me the tea.
“Morning,” I returned and sipped the floral brew.
“You look distracted. What are you thinking about?” Ryssa grabbed my attention.
“Oh, just…” I paused, taking her in. “Just an old friend.”
Despite the fact I never caught a glimpse of Ryssa without her hood or gloves, there was still something in her demeanor that drew me in. I felt like more than a flailing new King when she was near. She feltright.
I was grateful for whatever wisdom she provided on how to do my dealings with landowners and farmers. She’d been instrumental in repairing my relations with the lords of the North Corridor, who’d distrusted the late King Mattock. She’d praised my wise choices and gently questioned my not-so-wise ones.
I didn’t sit down with her on the sofa; instead, I said, “Would you like to take a ride with me?”
I needed to pass the pleasure hall—to see it with my own eyes and know it had just been a dream. I wore a cloak with the hood up as we rode into the southern part of Helos.
When my eyes landed on the establishment, a woman was on the steps with her head in her hands, crying, as a Helos guard loomed over her. The questions he asked made me pull up on my reins, steer into an alley beside the hall and come to a halt.
“You say you couldn’t see his face?” the guard asked.
The woman sniffled. “Yes, sir. He was tall and broad-shouldered and wore a cloak. I…I woke to screams and when I came downstairs, they were all…they were all dead..well, dying. He killed them all. All of my girls, every one. His back was turned when I came down the stairs.”
