“And who would that be?”
He chuckled. “Cute.”
I ignored that. “I’m guessing the golden wings are supposed to mimic Kolis when he is in his true form?”
Callum nodded.
“But I’ve seen him in his true form,” I said. “He’s nothing but bones.”
The Revenant’s fingers stilled.
“I’m also guessing that’s due to what remains of the last true embers of death in him,” I surmised.
“You’ve seen him like that?” Callum asked.
I nodded.
A slow smile spread across his lips, one that caused my skin to prickle with wariness. “Then you’ve seen death,” he said. “True death. No one sees that and lives very long afterward.”
My stomach twisted as our stares locked. “You don’t scare me.”
Callum laughed. “But he does.”
When Callum returned on what I could only assume was the following day, a bath had been prepared. Which was routine, but after I bathed, a Chosen entered the cage with a swath of sheer material that shimmered like liquid gold in the chandelier’s light.
The quiet Chosen had dressed me, then brushed my hair until it gleamed, sweeping it up with delicate pearl pins like my mother often wore in hers. Rouge was then applied to my cheeks and lips.
Then, she left.
And Kolis arrived.
While he was dressed as usual, a crown I hadn’t seen on him when Ash and I came to Dalos now sat upon his head. It was so golden and bright I couldn’t make out much detail at first, but the longer I stared, the more I saw.
The crown of gold was fashioned into a row of nine swords, each tip bearing a glittering diamond. The center spike was a sun made of more diamonds.
The Primal of Life’s crown was the opposite of the Primal of Death’s, yet they were identical. Day and night. Life and Death.
It was hard not to stare at it and think how it should rest on Ash’s head. Yet seeing him in such, even in my imagination, didn’t feel right.
Kolis’s crown wasn’t the only thing on display.
So was I.
There’d been no more talk of discovering my secrets as he’d warned. He hadn’t mentioned Ash, and there hadn’t been time for me to even ask.
All he’d said to me was, “Do not engage with those who enter the chamber,” which was a clear warning. After that, between conducting the businesses of the King of Gods from where he sat upon his throne while staring at me—at certain parts of me—he was occupied.
Which was why I was dressed as I was, my hair styled in a way that provided an unobstructed view of everything the gown revealed.
The same brown-haired guard I’d seen during my escape attempt escorted the gods into the chamber. I’d discovered his name was Elias. I remembered it because he was the only one whose gaze never strayed in my direction.
The gods who were brought in often looked, no matter their gender, as they informed Kolis of the requests being made at the Sun Temples. Many of their stares were full of curiosity. Some carried the glint of want I was beginning to recognize in Kolis’s eyes.
It was nothing like what I saw in Ash’s gaze. His had been full of want and need, but there had also been tenderness, yearning, and much respect, reverence, and passion. A fondness and devotion that could’ve grown into love if he had his kardia.
The gods’ stares reminded me of my stepbrother’s—full of the desire to consume. To dominate without deference. To have for the sake of having because I’d been prepared to be pleasing to the eye and displayed in a gilded cage.
I hoped their eyes exploded from their heads.
Along with Kolis’s.
The only reason I sat through it all like a quiet, caged bird was because of Ash. The deal. Once Kolis was convinced that I was who I said I was, he would release his nephew. But I needed to be careful. While Primals couldn’t break their oaths, they often found ways to make you regret gaining their promises. There were things Kolis could do while still honoring what he’d pledged. But I couldn’t let myself think about that or allow my imagination to run wild.
Because I realized something as I sat there. I hadn’t been clever enough to clarify what state Ash should be in when he was released.
As Callum would say, I behaved myself as the meetings went on, and Kolis began to change.
He grew tense, fidgety, even. His stares became…more. Longer. Heavier. His grip on the arms of the throne got tighter, the ick-factor of his gaze stronger.
Which was why I ignored Kolis and the leering gods for the most part, so bored out of my mind that I spent an ungodly length of time staring at the cluster of diamonds at the center of the cage bars, wondering why Kolis would even put them there. Like, what was the point? I had no idea.
I learned that each of Kolis’s gods represented different cities within the mortal kingdoms. And every time a new one entered, I paid attention just long enough to learn where they were from. None had come from Lasania.
I looked up as the god before Kolis droned on about offerings. My eyes narrowed slightly when I found his gaze on me. His stare held the same qualities as the ones who’d come before him. Want for the sake of wanting, which could also be translated into taking for the sake of it. Sighing, I shifted my focus to the open doors. I could only see Elias’s shoulder and the arm of another guard. What was his name? He had only stepped foot into the chamber a few times, and when he did, he had a certain stillness about him that reminded me of Callum.
I rose, going to the table where I poured myself a drink of the bubbly water. Today, it carried a hint of pineapple.
“Do you find her distracting?” Kolis asked suddenly.
I stopped, pitcher half-lowered, and looked up to see the sandy-haired god jerk his attention back to the Primal.
“You’ve been paying more attention to her than you have to me.” Kolis’s grip on the throne arms loosened. “I don’t believe you’ve taken your eyes off her since the moment she rose.”
“I apologize, Your Majesty,” the god replied, clearing his throat. “I have been distracted.”
“By her?” Kolis prodded.
The god glanced at me again and nodded.
Kolis’s head cocked. “What is it about her that you find so distracting?”
The handle of the pitcher dug into my palm. Could it be that my gown was transparent?
“She is…interesting to look upon,” the god answered.
“Interesting?” Kolis questioned. “Please elaborate, Uros.”
The god’s stare lowered, lingering on my chest. “She is pleasing to the eye.”
“Which parts?”
I flipped my stare to the Primal. Was he seriously asking that?
“Many parts,” Uros answered, looking at Kolis before continuing. “Her shape.”
Do not engage with those who enter the chamber, I reminded myself as I placed the pitcher back on the table before I launched it through the bars—something I didn’t think Kolis would appreciate. Plus, it would be a waste. The water was tasty.
“And?” Kolis smiled at the god, but there was an edge to it. A tension that hardened his jaw.
Uros looked me over as he drew his lower lip between his teeth. “Her hips. They’re full and appear soft. The shadowy area between her thighs.”