Page 40 of Given

“I never imagined a king knowing how to do these things.”

“Rolund doesn’t know how to make a bed?”

“I seriously doubt it.”

“But you do.”

My lips twitched. “I wasn’t heir to the throne.” My fledgling smile faded. “And my mother was a second wife.” And a vampire.

He flicked the last of the bedding into place. “My mother was a priestess of the Sanctum. She believed everyone should humble themselves before the gods regardless of their station.” His white teeth flashed in the firelight. “Thus, I know how to make a bed.”

“I thought the priestesses never married.” As scant as my knowledge of the vampire religion was, I knew that much. The priests of Nor Doru took wives, but women who served the gods were supposedly celibate.

“They don’t,” Laurent said. “But my father wanted a pure bride. He didn’t trust the families at court to give him an untouched daughter, so he rode to the Frozen Wastes and took his pick from the priestesses with noble blood. My mother wasn’t flattered by the attention.”

“So it wasn’t a love match.”

He gave me a mild look. Rather than answering, he rounded the bed and took my hand. Bewildered and a little nervous, I let him pull me to one of the colorful tapestries that decorated the walls. He pulled the tapestry back, revealing a doorway that had been bricked over.

“My mother was more interested in prayer than being queen. But that didn’t stop my father from forcing the issue.”

I stared at the wall. It was obviously a connecting door that, once upon a time, had led to another chamber. When I looked at him, he was watching me.

“She bricked this up shortly after I was born,” he said. “She told my father she’d given him an heir and that if he wanted anything more from her he could use the same door as everyone else. This wall is a fitting symbol for their relationship…or lack of it, I suppose.”

He didn’t sound like it bothered him. But maybe he was good at hiding his feelings. Anyone who spent time at court quickly learned that emotion was a liability. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Royal marriages rarely involve love. Although, your parents proved that particular maxim wrong.”

“Maybe for a while, but their love ended in tragedy.”

He brushed a knuckle along my jawline. “All love is a tragedy. We’ve all got bricked-up doors inside us, Princess. Loving someone means tearing all that down and leaving ourselves open. Make yourself that vulnerable and you give the ones you love the power to hurt you. And they always do.”

I swallowed. Standing barefoot with him, his body heat caressing my skin through the thin nightdress, it felt like we weren’t talking about other people anymore. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Maybe you will one day. If the right person comes along.” His knuckles continued skimming my jaw. In a rush of embarrassment, I realized he used the same hand he’d buried between my legs. My arousal had dried on his fingers.

And now he spoke of royal marriages. Yet he’d come to me with his lover in tow. I’d spent my whole life watching what happened when three people shared a bed. Just what did the King of Nor Doru want from me?

I stepped back, out of his reach. “You’re not alone, Your Gra— Laurent. You have Lord Varick. Sithistra buzzes with speculation about your relationship. After tonight, I know the stories are true.”

He didn’t respond. He studied me, his expression unreadable. Panic gripped me. I’d been too bold. Borderline insulting. I opened my mouth to apologize, but he cut me off.

“Distaste for the marriage bed wasn’t the only reason my mother bricked up this door. By the time I was ten years old, my father was mad.”

Shock tripped through me. Rolund had spies in the north. My brother put a lot of effort into knowing his enemy. But this particular news had never leaked south. Laurent’s family must have guarded the secret closely.

He spoke in a low, clipped voice, doling out the story like he wanted to devote as little time to it as possible. “His advisers hid it well. He’d always been paranoid, seeing enemies around every corner. When he threw petty criminals into the Rift, people called him harsh but fair. When he began tossing nobles into the chasm, the lowpeople assumed they were traitors deserving of their fate. My mother had the Sanctum on her side. She knew my claim to the throne would be in jeopardy if my father was deposed. So she made sure the priests looked the other way. The few who didn’t joined the nobles in the Rift.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to move away from the bricked-over door, but I didn’t dare. I stood still and braced myself for whatever came next.

“No one wants to deal with an insane king. You don’t get a lot of volunteers willing to put a knife between the ribs of a madman with absolute power. It’s easier to pretend everything is normal. To continue following orders. So when my father’s delusions convinced him I was trying to steal his throne, he ordered his general to kill me.”

My eyes went wide. That general would have been…

“Varick’s father,” Laurent said with a nod. “I was nineteen years old when Valen of Lar Keiren put a sword to my neck. Varick stopped him.” His silver eyes pierced the dim morning light. More silver winked in his earlobe. “I became king that night, on the shore of the Bitter Sea at Lar Keiren. Varick crowned me. It was the worst night of my life…and the best.”

The fire popped, making me jump. Laurent stayed totally still, his gaze never leaving mine. His eyes gleamed like the blade of a sword, sharp and deadly. Vampires are mortal the same as men. But he’d never looked more frightening. More alien.

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