Page 52 of Poisoned Kingdom
‘Nooo . . . for some unexplained reason, the thought of fucking a complete stranger doesn’t hold much appeal,’ I quipped.
‘Because of your “friend” who likes to come over uninvited?’ he said, jaw tightening, but despite the sharpness in his voice, he didn’t lash out. However, when he looked away, his smile was gone.
‘No. . . Because you told me you hate my guts, and I won’t let anyone trying to teach me a lesson touch me,’ I said, shrugging. My body stiffened when he studied my face, searching for a hint of mockery, but I held his challenging gaze.
‘Hmm . . . That’s a good rule to have, but rest assured, you would enjoyanylessons I chose to give.’
‘I guess we’ll never find out,’ I said, hoping he missed the hitch in my breath when his gaze drifted to my lips. I was suddenly aware of how close he stood. Reynard continued to search for something in my face while the tension grew between us, forcing me to look away. Slowly, his smile returned, and before I knew it, he shook his head, stepping away.
‘I guess we won’t. Let’s return to the reason you’re here,’ he said, glancing back as he returned to his chair. ‘Remember, Viper, even if it implicates you, I want the pure, unvarnished truth, so choose your words wisely.’
I certainly will,I thought, wishing I could look half as in control as he. Unfortunately, my dress was losing the fight to protect my modesty whenever I moved, and I had to hunch my shoulders to keep it laced.
‘I hope you’re ready to listen, Your Majesty. My neck’s still sore from the last time I was honest with you,’ I said nonchalantly, enjoying the sight of Reynard shifting uncomfortably as his hands tightened on the armrests.
Riordan turned, giving me such a glare that I felt like a thief caught red handed before he hammered the nail into my proverbial coffin.
‘A lie. Her neck does not hurt, and she liked your touch.’
Reynard’s eye narrowed. ‘Are you testing me, Viper?’
‘More like testing your mage, and he’s proved himself an accomplished ars . . . person.’
A forced smile tightened my lips, and with a truly insufferable eye roll, Riordan shrugged. But I wasn’t done yet.
‘Besides, you shouldn’t be too upset. It was just a little teasing—similar to yours when you came to visit me that night,’ I said, looking the mage in the eye, wondering if he knew what Reynard had done in my bedroom.
‘I was testing you; teasing is reserved for lovers,’ the king answered with a stone-cold expression. His eyebrows drew together and he gestured for the mage to continue.
An inquisition sigil appeared in the air, awakened to life with a few flickers of the hand. I braced myself when I saw the shimmering, magical strands settle over me, the tendrils so icy that my skin prickled with goosebumps. While a strong truthseeker didn’t need a sigil to sense a lie, the inquisition sigil forced the truth and punished resistance. I’d endured one as a test before Boyan had made me his shadow, and I dreaded repeating the experience.
I was still marvelling at the ephemeral yet detailed structure of the spell when Reynard asked his first question.
‘Were you going to kill me when you came to my bedroom?’
‘No,’ I answered as pressure built in my head.
Riordan was doing more than just listening to my words. The spell’s tendrils latched onto my mind and examined the thoughts and images associated with them. I relaxed, looked him in the eye, and smirked before focusing on the Orcish Steppe, full of flowers and horses prancing around.
He snorted before his expression returned to the perfect indifference of an inquisitor mage.
‘Were you trying to kill me in the forest?’ Reynard asked, frowning at the change in Riordan’s attitude
‘Not exactly.’
‘What the fuck does that mean?’ The king grasped his armrests so hard that the wood bent, disappointment and disbelief saturating his voice. ‘Why did you do it, Viper?’ He pointed to his empty eye socket.
‘Because I didn’t know any better. I was dazed. They’d knocked me out, and the last thing I remembered was a man forcing himself on me. When I regained consciousness, another massive brute was holding me against my will. So, no, I didn’t want to kill the king of Dagome, but Ididwant to kill the man I thought was attacking me,’ I snapped, grinding my teeth when the pressure built to the point of pain. I realised Riordan was wanting to see the memory for himself, so I let him in.
The truthseeker staggered, grasping the back of a chair. His gaze turned glassy as he sifted through my memories, drowning in my terror.
‘She’s telling the truth. She was terrified . . . The blood, the pain, the feeling of violation . . . fuck, the stench of death.’ His voice became hoarse, desolate, all because I had let him feel everything.
We both flinched when Reynard smashed his fist on the armrest, his other hand rubbing the rapidly reddening scar on his face.
‘Godsdamn it, I was trying to help! I survived an uprising, war, and assassins, but lost my eye because I stank of those bastards’ blood?’
‘You wanted the truth,’ I said, swallowing hard. ‘I’m sorry . . . I really am.’
