Page 41 of Legacy of the Heirs
“That was not part of the plan,” the Lord of Night sighed, and she pictured him tapping his foot impatiently.
“So, your followers do not listen to you?” Soren asked. “Or respect you?” She stepped closer, forcing him to step back towards the iron cell he guarded.
“The creatures can beirrationalwhen backed into a corner,” he concluded. He was careful with his words; he always was.
“Do you know where they have taken her?” she asked. The quicker Larelle was returned, the more reasonable Sadira would be. The lord said nothing, and his shadows paused as if they, too, were thinking.He does not know.
“We need to be quicker,” he said, changing the topic. Hewithdrew from her while the shadows trailed back and forth. “I will not lose this kingdom, Soren.”
He is pacing, she realised.
“Tell me why,” she urged. “Why do you want this kingdom?”
“This again?” he hissed. “Again?” Soren refrained from pushing, having asked endless times before. “Why does it matter when I have promised you will keep your crown?”
Soren stepped forward, wishing to make amends before he left, but the Lord of Night backed away, the shadows completely hiding the cell bar behind him.
“You are disappointing me, Soren. It may be worth keeping my distance for a while, and perhaps when I choose to return, you will have better news.” His voice became distant.
“No, please! Please do not leave.”
“Just do as I ask Soren,” his silken voice returned. “Take the throne, and I will reveal more.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nyzaia
Everything reminded Nyzaia of Tajana. The twists of the awful shade of green ropes hanging from the drapes were her braid, the crackle of the fireplace mirrored Nyzaia’s response to her touch, and her syndicate’s leathers ignited memories of when they all sat at the table, playing cards.
Nyzaia sat in the middle of the canopy bed, which felt far too large and empty without her. Tucking her knees under her chin, blood seeped from her feet into the sheets, cut from the shards of glass while fighting. Elisara’s friend, Vigor, had offered to tend to her, but she refused.
“My queen,” Farid’s voice sounded distant despite standing beside the bed. “My queen,” he repeated, though she did not answer. She thought only of how he had defended her against the woman she loved. “Nyzaia.” His voice was even quieter now, and she barely moved as his hand cautiously brushed her bare arm. Slowly, she looked down at his hand before looking up at him. Her eyes felt puffy as she met his, the pale blue of his gaze now reminding her of an icy fire that burned for her protection.
Farid offered his hand, and Nyzaia’s eyes flickered down, taking a moment to analyse the strips of scars on his palm. She had not noticed them before.
“You need to bathe,” he said in his usual matter-of-fact way.
“Are you saying I smell?” she asked. Farid’s lip twitched before returning to its usual straight line.
“Yes.”
Sighing, Nyzaia looked at his hand again and accepted it. Hepulled her up and quickly stepped back, gesturing to the bathing room adjoined to the guest chambers in Antor castle. The wooden floor was cold, though the entire room was compared to Keres. It was dark, too, and the wood and deep greens were suffocating.
Nyzaia stepped into the room and stared at the steaming tub in the centre. She wished it was bigger, like the pool in her chambers at home.
“I will be right outside,” Farid said.
“No, stay.” She bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She did not wish to be alone with her thoughts. Farid did not falter as he closed the door behind him, though she suspected he looked elsewhere as she began peeling off what remained of her lehenga.
The colour of the water rapidly changed as she sunk below its surface, drawing the blood and grime from her skin and leaving only the stain of heartbreak behind. She raised the temperature, hoping the water would burn every one of Tajana’s imprints on her flesh to ash.
“Was I blind?” Nyzaia asked numbly.
“No.”
Nyzaia nodded, and then a silent sob escaped her.
The water splashed against the tub as Nyzaia quickly hid the sounds of her cries in her hand; finally, she released her pain. Farid shifted on his feet.
