Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (92)

Molkan’s steps slowed, as did mine, his eyes traveling the expansive surroundings of his royal home. A home that should have been mine. A home that could perhaps still be mine. “And how long before you realized you’d ventured into a viper’s nest?” he asked.

My cheeks flushed, and not due to the sun.

Molkan deduced enough from my silence. A touch of pity that only made me feel worse lined his voice. “You are young, and though you were born here, you are not at all familiar with the deception and trickery of your own ilk.”

I refrained from saying I was more than familiar now.

We reached the shade of a large apple tree. Molkan plucked one from it, inspecting the glossy red fruit before he passed it to me.

I thanked him, my fingers rubbing over the smooth skin of the apple as he nodded once and we walked on.

“Your mother was my first love,” he said, hands again tucked behind his back and his eyes fastened on the workers who tended a vegetable garden along the wall in the distance. “But she was not my only.”

I paused in bringing the apple to my lips and lowered it.

“Corina’s father was a filthy rich merchant and a dear friend to my own father. Years before they were both lost to the sea during one of their annual adventures across the Amethyst, they’d made plans for Corina and me to marry.”

A smile carried his words. “We dragged our feet, of course. We’d been friends our whole lives, and though we loved one another far more than any friend should, we did not encounter any sign of the Mother-blessed bond. Which worried us, and for a good reason.”

My mind skipped forward, guessing where this tragedy was headed.

“But when our fathers died, well...” Molkan lifted his shoulders, his eyes still glued to the gardens while I tried not to trip while gazing at his bearded profile. “We decided it was time. Corina’s father’s fortune was hers, but not until she married could she rightfully claim his vast estate along the coastline of the Elixir Sea.” A smirk sparked his eyes. “Her father always got what he desired, and it seemed not even death would stop him.”

“So she couldn’t inherit until you were wed?”

“Barbaric, isn’t it?” Molkan said. “Not two weeks after their ship went down, the nymphs hired to search for our fathers’ remains finally found enough evidence to suggest that sea beasts had helped themselves to everyone on board, and so we were wed.”

Just imagining the brutality of dying in that way...

The teeth and scales and mountainous muscle of the sea monsters I’d glimpsed within books turned my stomach.

Molkan huffed, as if he’d glanced my way to see the color drain from my face. Then he continued, “Your mother grieved her father terribly for many years, but I was glad to be rid of my own. He was prone to violent outbursts. So much so, my mother was laid to rest in these gardens after perishing from one of his tempers. We were to never speak of it. As far as anyone knew, when my father was alive that is, she died from complications of a miscarriage.”

Sadly believable. Miscarriage and birth were feared killers of faerie females.

“My father never wanted to be king,” Molkan said quietly. “He loved the sea a great deal more than he could have ever loved my mother and me. He felt trapped, and though I hated him, I eventually empathized when I first saw Lilitha.”

Something cold coiled around my heart, my fingers tightening upon the large apple.

“Some decades ago, we had an annual tradition that is now no longer. Each kingdom would meet right here in Bellebon upon the spring equinox. For three days, we’d celebrate. The palace was open to every noble and creature of importance from across Folkyn, and the city outside overflowed with citizens and visitors from our neighboring kingdoms.”

There was no mistaking the nostalgia in his voice, nor the slight thickening that hinted toward regret.

“Lilitha had been confined to her kingdom until she reached seventeen years, and I do believe Florian would have kept her there until she’d fully matured—had he been able to.” He released a gruff bout of laughter. “She escaped, of course, after convincing her father that she had an urgent message that must be delivered to her brother immediately.”

Recalling those mischief-glazed eyes in her portrait, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Hammond was beyond caring what his daughter got up to, and he certainly hadn’t enough soul left within him to keep her from danger. So dressed in his night robes, he materialized his daughter to these very gardens, merely nodded when he’d found me gaping at his unexpected entrance, and then vanished. Lilitha, who’d been slow to shake off the dizziness of her arrival, first looked at me, blinking such huge blue eyes.”

We slowed as we neared bowing workers along the far wall.

Molkan’s voice dropped even lower. “I knew instantly, and I suppose she did, too. For although I resumed mollifying a courtier who’d finally gained my attention, Hellebore’s princess walked straight to me.” He chuckled. “She just waited there in a shimmering silver gown, her long dark curls over her bare shoulders, until the courtier grew tired of failing to keep my stolen attention.”

We wended back across the plush grass toward the palace.

“I’d like to say I avoided her. She was so young.” His sigh was more of a groan. “As I said, she hadn’t even reached the age of full maturity, but I am certainly no saint, and she was incessant. First a dance, then too much wine, then she dragged me beyond the lake and deep into the trees to seal our fates.”