The sad thing was that she was right: Charisemnon had conditioned his people to accept his perversions as honor. All Andromeda could do was keep watch for any girl who didn’t appear to be so willing. If and when that happened, she’d find a way to help her.
“I have a task for you, granddaughter,” Charisemnon said, one hand on the newly blossoming breast of the child in bed with him.
Nausea twisted her gut. “Sire.” All she had to do was stay alive. If she was alive, there was hope. Naasir was fighting for her. She’d fight for him. Until her last breath, she’d fight and she’d hold on to her sanity and her soul.
“Hmm.” Charisemnon’s smile was twisted. “I had intended for you to prove your bloodline to the court this morning, for none of my line can be seen as weak.”
“You have witnessed my skill with the sword.”
Charisemnon waved that away. “You are known as a scholar. A princess of the court needs be more ruthless.”
Sweat broke out along Andromeda’s spine. “Yes, sire.”
“As I say, that was my plan, but it’ll have to wait for your return.”
Andromeda didn’t feel any relief at the reprieve, aware worse could be waiting. “My return?”
“It appears Alexander wishes to speak to you.”
Too stunned and off-balance to hide it, she just stared at her grandfather.
Charisemnon’s smile deepened, as if he enjoyed her shock. “He feels you deserve a reward for your part in saving him.”
Chest tight and skin cold, Andromeda stepped carefully. “My actions did not have a deleterious effect on your relationship with the Archangel Lijuan?” She’d been waiting for that particular ax to fall since her return.
Charisemnon pushed away the girls. Trained and obedient, they slipped out of bed and headed out without anything to cover their naked flesh. Leaving the bed himself while she averted her eyes, Charisemnon pulled on a robe the color of aged merlot and turned to her.
“It could have and you will be disciplined for not clearing your actions with me,” he said, and all at once, he was no longer a man with sickening appetites but an archangel, his power blinding. “However, as Alexander clearly has gentle feelings for you, there’s no reason we can’t capitalize on that.”
“You wish for me to cultivate Alexander?” she asked, her expression polite and respectful, though she felt as if she was attempting to balance on a tightrope so thin, it cut into the soles of her feet. “Would that not anger Lijuan and threaten your alliance?”
“Alexander is an Ancient.” Charisemnon poured himself a drink from an opaque bottle. “If we can gain his favor, Lijuan becomes less important.”
Andromeda didn’t fool herself that her grandfather was taking her into his confidence. “Of course, sire.”
Charisemnon’s lips flattened after he put down the glass, his eyes chips of ice. “Lijuan should never have taken a child of my bloodline, and she should’ve informed me of her plans for Alexander.”
Ah. Andromeda knew she meant nothing to Charisemnon as a person, but as a symbol of his rule, yes. Lijuan had crossed a line there. But even that, she suspected, wouldn’t have been enough without the latter transgression.
Tightening the robe of his belt, Charisemnon sneered. “I would have been able to ensure the success of the mission. She was a fool to disregard me.”
“Yes, sire.” Andromeda waited to see if there was anything further, but Charisemnon dismissed her after stating that Alexander would be at her parents’ home the next day and she was to fly there today in readiness.