“And what is that?”
“A god,” I replied and left.
I had one guess as to where Adrian might be, and that was with his advisors, likely discussing Ravena’s successful corruption of Ciro. I was sure to be an unwelcome presence among the noblesse. Only, I did not care. I flew down the corridors, my feet carrying me as if they were not my own, and burst through the doors of Adrian’s council chamber.
He stood at the head of his round table with Daroc on his right, surrounded by what remained of his noblesse. My gaze caught and held Adrian’s, and I took two more steps into the room.
“Leave. I wish to speak to my husband.”
There was a beat of silence. No one moved, and I thought for a second I would have to repeat myself, or worse, Adrian would not support me in my interruption of whatever this was and force me to leave—a decision that would not bode well for him. But then the room cleared. I held Adrian’s gaze as each noblesse passed. Even Daroc’s—which was pointed and heavy—did not faze me.
Finally, the door closed behind me.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
I did not even know where to begin.
“Did you know my mother’s people were enslaved by King Gheroghe?” I could barely finish the sentence; I was in so much distress. “Those are my aunts and uncles…maybe even my grandparents.”
All this time, I’d been left to wonder if they cared about my mother, if they cared that I even existed, but it was possible they did not even know I lived or that my mother had died.
“Isolde—”
“Did you know?” My scream was so loud, my voice went hoarse.
His silence spoke volumes.
“You bastard!” I said, clenching my jaw so hard, my teeth hurt. Tears blurred my vision.
“What would you have me do?” he countered.
“Free them!” I yelled. “Kill King Gheroghe. Do you not plan to conquer Vela anyway?”
“It is on the list, Isolde, but it is not the priority.”
I flinched. “Are you saying I am not your priority?”
“I never said that.” He spoke with such reverence, my blood ran cold. “I care about you, far more than you will ever understand, but I can only do so much. I only have so many men. Not to mention I’m concerned about the crimson mist attacking our people.”
His words took most of the fight out of me. Still, I rallied.
“Recruit more men,” I said.
He tilted his head and his lips twitched. “Are you telling me to turn more people?”
I swallowed hard. I was forgoing all my values. Tonight, I’d asked Adrian to attack a kingdom of the Nine Houses, and I’d asked him to turn mortals into vampires. I’d fallen so low, and I didn’t care.
“I understand your anger,” he said. “I am not happy with King Gheroghe either. Even if he had something I valued, I would not offer him immortality for his crimes. His end will come, and it will be by your hand…if you are willing to act as a queen.”
“And how does a queen act?” I asked, fury still coursing through me.
“Everything must be strategic, and nothing can be personal until victory is near. Do you understand?”
He was telling me we had to plan. He was telling me I had to wait to free my mother’s people—my people. Could I handle the guilt of my own freedom? Of my own privilege?
“Everyone will want your sacrifice, Isolde. Be mindful who gets it.”
“Who gets yours?”
“Do you really need to ask?” he said, his voice quiet.
I did need to ask, because he’d left me to wake up alone, because when I’d gone in search of him, I’d found Safira instead.
“I just came from your room,” I said, and Adrian’s brows rose, more curious than alarmed.
“And what were you doing there?”
“Looking for you,” I answered. “But do you know what I found instead?” I could not even wait for him to answer, I was so angry all over again. “Safira. Naked. In your bed. She claims to have been there the last three nights.”
Adrian stiffened. “And you believe this?”
“You do not get to ask me what I believe or do not believe at this point, Your Majesty. You get to explain. Now.”
Asking for an explanation did not mean I did not trust him, but I deserved one all the same. Especially considering all he’d kept from me. He stared at me for a long moment, and I wondered if he was reading my mind. Were my emotions strong enough? Were they too chaotic for him to decide what to focus on? After a moment, he moved from behind the table, and on his way past me, he said, “I will do more than explain.”