In the Veins of the Drowning(75)

I’d not realized just how much of his armor he’d let fall away while we’d traveled. Alone with me in the wildlands, he’d been someone else entirely. Now, all the soft, vulnerable pieces of him were suddenly hidden away.

I stopped at his side. “I’d like to bathe.”

He gave me a quick nod. Something had shifted between us since I’d lost my control. Since I’d nearly killed Lachlan.

It made me certain of at least one thing: The king of Varya could not allow himself to love me. Here, in his world, we could never be. I was something fearsome, untrustworthy. And he… he wore his crown so well.

The severing draught sat heavy in my pocket. “Tonight, we should—” I started, but Theodore’s attention was elsewhere.

“We should what?” he asked, absently. A deep line creased his brow as he took in a long line of opulent carriages, tucked one after the other down the long drive like a string of gaudy beads.

“What’s the matter?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why all these carriages are here.” He turned and took the stairs two at a time. I moved quickly to keep up, racing behind him down the middle of the entry hall. Ghostly music echoed off the walls, the tune delicate, almost melancholic. Theodore followed the sound all the way to the ornate door situated at the palace’s back wall. He heaved it open and halted right upon the threshold.

It was his throne room. It was a soaring space, drenched in crystal and gold, and brimmed with extravagantly attired guests. It was as if Theodore had lifted the gilded lid of a jewel box that held the brightest of stones. Varya’s nobility had a wealth that Seraf’s could only dream of.

Theodore took a rigid step into the room and the herald’s voice boomed over the violins and murmurs and laughter. The music cut out as every guest bowed. I wanted to bolt behind the door, but Theodore plodded farther into the room, eyes scanning the scene in shock.

“The bridegroom has returned.” The empress appeared from the center of the crowd, arms spread wide in benevolent greeting.

I lingered as far behind as I could without our bond cramping with sick. Boots scraped behind me and Lachlan was there, helmet in hand.

“Fuck me,” he mumbled when he saw the way Theodore’s anger had rounded his wide back and curled his hands to fists.

“What is this?” Theodore asked the empress through a locked jaw.

The empress tilted her head, a bland look on her pale face. It was a wonder her massive diamond crown didn’t slide to the floor with the movement. “An engagement party, of course. The wedding is in just over a week.”

Princess Halla emerged from amid the guests and swept into an absurdly grand curtsy before Theodore. Her white gown was tight and studded with sparkling beads. A sheer, flowing white hood billowed over her shoulders and hooked to her tiara. “Your Majesty, I’m happy for your return.” She stood once more and gave him a blooming smile. “I’m sure you’d like to refresh yourself, but may I request a dance before you do?”

Theodore was still. Red crept up his throat, which bobbed as he swallowed back his temper. He gave Halla an almost polite nod. “One dance.”

The princess’s smile grew somehow brighter as she lifted her arms. Theodore held her hand and, keeping their distance, took her by the waist. The music swelled. The crowd cleared away. With the first steps of their dance the blood bond made my stomach feel like it was stretching. It gave a deep ache, a protesting surge of discontent. Saliva trickled over my tongue. I didn’t budge. I merely clamped my jaw, chest squeezing, and endured the discomfort.

I could feel Lachlan’s gaze on me. “You okay?”

“Don’t act like you care.”

“I care.” He blew out a fast breath. “I was mad when I found you on the road. It’s been stressful.”

“The severing draught is in my pocket.” I watched a stoic Theodore glide the princess through the steps of the dance. “Can you find Agatha for me? I’d like her to be with me when I take it.”

Lachlan gave me a heavy, searching look. “Does Theo know?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t tell him. Please.”

He pursed his lips, looking ill at ease. “I’ll find Agatha.”

As soon as he left my side, a smooth, lilting voice trilled in my ear. “It looks like your travel was quite harrowing, Lady Nel.” Empress Nivala sounded benign enough, but her lapis eyes were keen as she took in the state of me.

I stepped back and dipped into a curtsy. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. Quite.”

Her gaze cut away from me, and she watched contentedly as her daughter and Theodore continued their dance. “They’re lovely together, aren’t they?”

They were. He was the sun, fervent, constant, and it was she that was the pale, glittering moon, brightened by his presence. What was I then, I wondered? The slinking darkness, perhaps, burned away by the light of them both.

When the empress’s attention returned to me, the wrinkles at her eyes deepened with puzzlement. “Is there a reason that you linger? You’re covered in days-old blood.”

“No, Your Imperial Majesty.” I curtsied again, my stomach twisting further. “Excuse me.”

“Ahh, a moment.” She’d gone oddly still, all her icy attention zeroed in on me, or rather, on the engagement ring I still wore on my finger. I stopped in my muddy tracks. “Your name, my lady—Nel.” Her casual tone was so at odds with her piercing gaze. She extended a hand toward mine, the fingers long and bone pale, but her touch was warm, soft. She took my hand—the one with the ring—and began to stroke the back of it with the pad of her index finger. “I’d like to know its origins.”