“Hmm.” He furrowed his brow at her. “I understand what you mean. When you say it that way, it’s far more fascinating.”
Zarrah gave a soft snort. “I’m going to choose.” Rolling off him, she rose naked to walk to the chest of books where it sat in front of the stateroom door. The sunlight illuminated the taut muscle and through a spy hole. “But she did choose to stop seeing the world in the same way as the Empress, whofeminine curves of her naked body, and Keris rolled onto his elbow to drink her in. The most beautiful woman in the world trailing her fingers over the spines of his books, searching for the perfect volume.
Why couldn’t this be for forever?
A shadow fell over the room, and he glanced from Zarrah to the window to discover the idyllic seas had turned rough, the sky dark with ominous clouds. “I think there’s a storm coming. The sky—”
He broke off, for Zarrah had turned, the books in her hands slipping to fall with heavy thuds, her abdomen pierced with a dozen knitting needles. She opened her mouth, and blood dripped down her chin as she whispered, “Why wouldn’t you let me go?”
Keris jerked awake, heart hammering and sweat slicking his skin, the room around him dark.
Just a nightmare.
Knowing it was such didn’t make him feel any less sick, Zarrah’s voice still echoing through his mind, the accusation always the same.
A draft brushed across his cheek.
Had he opened the window? Bloody hell, he needed to ease up on the drinking, because he could scarcely remember going to bed after dining with his sister. Sitting upright, Keris peered at the shadowed drapery across the room, but it didn’t stir.
Yet he could’ve sworn that he’d smelled the salt of the sea and the stink of the city on the air.
Keris’s skin crawled, and he scanned the room, searching for signs of motion. Signs that yet another of his brothers had come to try to slit his throat. He instinctively reached backward to his pillow, Keris’s throat still constricted. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to speak, his voice still low. “I’m fingers searching for a knife.
A knock sounded on the door.
He opened his mouth to tell whoever it was to go away, but then the door swung open. He’d
forgotten to bolt it. What was wrong with him?
A hooded figure stepped inside, and Keris’s fingers closed over the handle of his knife, his body tensing.
Only for the figure to draw back the hood, Lestara’s face illuminated by the lamp outside the room.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he said, letting go of the weapon.
“I’ve been told these are your favored hours.” Lestara’s voice was a purr as she nodded at whichever of his idiot guards had let her pass and shut the door. She moved to a table and turned up a lamp, then walked to the foot of his bed, unfastening the ties on her cloak.
“Lestara,” he protested, but she ignored him, dropping her cloak.
And revealing her naked body underneath.
Shit.
Keeping his eyes fixed on her forehead, he said, “I thought I’d made myself clear, Lestara. I’ve no intention of marrying the harem, regardless—”
“Of tradition?” She smiled, finishing the sentence he’d said over and over since taking the throne.
“I don’t blame you. Half of them are old enough to be your mother, and the rest are mothers of your siblings. But not me.”
She eased onto the bed, crawling toward him like a cat, her breasts swaying with the motion. Keris shifted backward, his shoulders hitting the headboard as he searched the ground for his discarded trousers, spotting them halfway across the room. Fuck.
“I’m the daughter of a king,” she murmured. “I was raised to rule, and I’m very good at it. Among Zarrah gave a soft snort. “I’m going to choose.” Rolling off him, she rose naked to walk to the chestother things.”
Her fingers latched on to the blanket, trying to pull it down, but Keris grabbed hold of the fabric. A battle ensued, which might have been comedic if he weren’t on the verge of panicking. “Lestara, you need to leave.”
She sat back on her heels, full lips pouting. “I have to say, with your reputation, this wasn’t the reaction I expected.” Not giving him a chance to respond, she added, “Is it because I’m not a whore that you pay with silver afterward?” Her slow smile returned, and she reached forward to trail a finger down his chest and stomach. “I can play whore; you’ll just have to pay me in gold and jewels.
And make me your queen.”
Anger chased away his panic, and he batted her hand away before she could reach under the
blanket. “Get out of my bed, Lestara. I’m not interested.”
The seductress vanished, frustration twisting her features. “Why not?”
Because you aren’t her. “You’re my father’s wife.”
“Silas is dead,” she hissed, “and I have a hard time believing that you care that I’m not a maid, given your proclivities.” Her eyes darkened with spite. “Worried you won’t measure up? Worried you
aren’t the man your father was?”
The laugh that tore from his lips was bitter. “Nice try. Now get the fuck out of my room before I have the guards drag you out and put you on a ship back to Cardiff.”
Her amber eyes widened. “You wouldn’t … My father will have me killed for my failures if you send me back.”
The statement made him question just what the King of Cardiff had expected Lestara to achieve, but Keris shoved the thought aside. “Then it seems the choice is clear. Get out of my bedroom and go back to your own. Once there, you may choose whether you wish to take your jewelry and leave this palace to pursue your own ends or whether you wish to remain in this household as a favored aunt.
But allow me to be abundantly clear, Lestara. You will never be queen of Maridrina.”
No longer caring that he was naked, Keris slung his legs off the side of the bed and strode to where his trousers lay in a pile on the floor. As he pulled them on, she said, “You’re a fool to cast me aside.
You need me.”
“And why is that?” He buckled his belt, walking to the door because, evidently, words weren’t going to get her to leave. But her next statement froze him in place.
“Without me as an ally, you’ll return from Ithicana to discover you no longer have a crown.”
whichever of his idiot guards had let her pass and shut the door. She moved to a table and turned up a
“Is that a threat?” he demanded, slowly turning.
“No.” Lestara lifted her chin, eyes full of defiance. “It’s a foretelling. Other than the rabble you dress in uniforms, no one supports you, Keris. Not the military. Not the nobility. Not even the people, who are coming to believe you are every bit the monster your father was. If you turn your back to go on this errand to Ithicana, mark my words, one of your brothers will stage a coup and take the throne.”
Nothing he didn’t know, yet for some reason, hearing it from Lestara caused his stomach to twist.
“But through me, you have the harem,” she said. “The daughters and sisters and nieces of the most powerful men in the kingdom and beyond. Our influence will sway them to support you, to keep your brothers in check, and to ensure the crown remains firmly on your head when you return.”
It was what his father had used them for. Why he’d married so many women over the years.
She eased onto the bed, crawling toward him like a cat, her breasts swaying with the motion. Keris Because marriage secured alliances and power. “Why? Why not wait until my back is turned and then choose one of my brothers and make this pitch to them? Why bother with me?”
Lestara slipped off the bed, bending to retrieve her cloak, which she donned before approaching him. “Because you’re the best of his sons, Keris. The only one of age who we trust to heal Maridrina and make it strong again.”