Page 18 of Courting the Tiger King

“Zennon is the more logical choice for a mate.” Neah looked away, glancing around the room and inspecting the new piles of books and scrolls that had crept into the space since last she’d visited, illuminated only by the streams of light that came in through the small circular window set high in the wall. “But she does seem certain.”

“This is not a fate I would have chosen for either of you.”

“Why? One would think we could do worse than a king. Unless… is he an unkind man?” Her thoughts were bordering on treasonous, but Neah couldn’t help it. If the king was a threat to Zennon, then she would deal with him. Treason or no.

Jamison waved the words away. “No, nothing like that. It’s complicated. For now, you will observe. I will investigate Zennon’s estate further, perhaps there was someone else there that night that the king’s spell detected,” he added the last in a mutter but her heightened hearing caught the words all the same.

“And if it’s true? If the king is mated to one of us?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes, glancing around the room and eventually settling on a point just beside her head. “Then we’ll deal with it as best we can. But being mated to the king brings more danger than you could know. His enemies will become your enemies, and there are many.”

This, she knew too well. “You would have us refuse the bond?”

He hesitated and then sighed deeply, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and she’d only added to the load. “It is not my decision to make, my darling. For now, let’s focus on finding whoever placed the bounty. Once the guild takes care of its own, they may try again—perhaps within these very walls if they hold the influence that I suspect they do.”

“I’ll have Zennon moved to my room.” She stood and then faltered, her roles blurring until she asked in a small voice, “How is she?”

Jamison brightened, the weight of his years lifting. “Your mother is fine. She misses you. Both of you.”

Neah’s throat tightened but she nodded jerkily. Her mother might not have been Zen’s by blood, but she loved Zennon all the same. Neah’s parents were both shifters and so benefited from the extended lifeline that came with their nature but Zennon was more human than shifter and likely wouldn’t live as long as they did. It made the time they could spend together all the more precious. “Can we see her?”

The softness to her father’s face had returned as he stood and reached her in two steps, wrapping his arms tightly around her and squeezing until she could hardly breathe. “Of course. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Neah squeezed him back almost as hard and then released him, spinning away before he could see the dampness in her eyes. It wasn’t weak to cry, but she didn’t like to worry her father and if he knew how much she’d missed this, missedthem, he might not forgive himself for keeping her active in his network of spies.

“I’ll keep you updated,” she said tersely and didn’t wait for his reply as she strode out of the room and back into the corridor. Only then did she allow the tears to slip free.

By the time she reached the more populated area of the palace, her eyes were dry and her mask was in place once more.

She’d left the palace’s keepers instructions to air out her chambers before she’d gone to meet her father, and was pleasedto find they’d worked quickly. As daughter of the captain, she was afforded a suite much more luxurious than the guest suite Zennon had been allocated and even with the chill air from the open windows, it was comforting to be back in the familiar space.

The set-up wasn’t too different from the guest room, only Neah’s was bigger and came with an adjoining parlour area as well as a bathing chamber. She’d chosen the tapestries on the walls herself, sweeping landscapes hand-painted featuring the forest below throughout the seasons, as well as the leather armchairs in front of the hearth in the parlour. There was also a small row of bookcases, filled with books on martial arts and sword play as well as romances that she’d snuck into her bedroom as a teen.

It was like returning to a version of herself she’d nearly forgotten had existed.

But here was the proof, the ghost of her soul spread about the room freshly dusted and polished, like it had been waiting for her all along.

Zennon had opted to stay in her chambers for the next few hours with a guard posted outside of her door but would be coming to see Neah soon with options for what to wear tonight. They’d received word of a feast that evening that the king had organised and, despite her weariness, Neah knew they had to go. Not only did she need to protect Zennon, but Neah was also keen to keep an eye on the king. For Zen’s sake, she needed to know what kind of man Wren truly was.

What about for your own sake?

She pushed the thought away, taking advantage of the momentary privacy to strip off the oppressive dress she’d worn for the sake of breakfast and padded over to the adjoining bathing chamber to find a bath already waiting for her. Goddess, but the palace keepers weregood.

It had been a while since she’d had the time to soak and she took full advantage of it then. At Zennon’s, her bath had been perfunctory, necessary to remove the traces of blood from her person, and less than skillfully drawn seeing as she’d been the one to throw it together.

But this? Bliss.

Her worries, and thoughts of Zennon, and the king, and her father’s beleaguered state, all fled her as she breathed in the steam and stretched the full length of her body out beneath the water. For now, without prying eyes and court expectations, she could just be herself.

Breaths slowing, she relaxed incrementally until her limbs floated weightless in the water. Her skin smelled like the cinnamon soap she’d left behind that had been her favourite growing up and it wasn’t until her fingers and toes started to wrinkle that she reluctantly stood and climbed out of the tub.

Unlike the freestanding bath Zennon had at her estate, this one was built into the wall and the water drained away with ease as she towelled herself off and added another old favourite to her skin and hair—golden honey oil with added jasmine. The scent was sweet and fresh at the same time and she inhaled deeply as she combed it through her long hair, focusing on the lightened ends that sometimes dried out in the summer.

After the oil had soaked in, leaving her skin shimmering and smooth, she made use of the chamber pot and approached the armoire in her bedroom. She’d filled out since last she’d seen these clothes, her breasts fuller, her hips rounder, and she was a good amount taller too. It was likely that nothing in there would fit.

As if she’d heard the thought, a knock came at the door to her chambers and Neah smiled. Zennon’s timing was impeccable. Neah slipped on a silky robe that just reached the tops of herthighs and walked toward the parlour. It was only Zennon, who had seen Neah in worse states of undress than a too-small robe.

Except, when she opened the door it was not to the sight of familiar brown eyes.

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