“Those villagers would have watched you burn, and you know it.”
I flinched. Lorian cursed and released my hands.
Then his mouth was on mine, and I could taste his frustration and fury. The air left my lungs, but breathing was secondary to the feel of him hard and enraged against me.
“Your Thol would never have given you this,” he whispered against my mouth. “And you know that too.” He took a step back. “Until you face up to the reality of your life, you will forever be a victim to it.”
Then he was stalking out of the room. He didn’t look back.
I hated him.
Making my way back to my chambers, I threw myself onto my bed. But I didn’t cry.
I was too angry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I was in a black mood the next morning when Erea and Daselis woke me. As usual, so was Daselis, while Erea beamed at me. The maids bustled around, opening curtains and murmuring to each other.
I swung my legs out of bed, and my gaze caught on the new necklace next to the fresh valeo on my nightstand. I smiled. Vicer had come through, and Tibris had likely helped. How had they managed to smuggle this in while I was sleeping, though? These days, I woke easily and often.
I picked up the necklace and almost choked on my next breath. Unlike the cheap trinket currently around my neck, this necklace was…gorgeous.
The chain was so fine, I fumbled with it when I attempted to put it on. Swinging my legs out of bed, I made my way to my long mirror and studied the gem.
The center stone was the same brown-gold as my real eyes, only it gleamed in the light. The stones surrounding it would be fake, but they glimmered like real diamonds.
Obviously, Vicer felt bad about how close I’d come to walking around with no charm at all. Either that, or my brother had terrified him.
As a maid, wearing this necklace would have drawn too much attention. As one of the queen’s ladies, I was expected to wear jewels. Something Madinia had reminded me of just a few nights ago.
“Telean will be here soon.” Erea smiled at me as she turned from tying back the heavy curtains. “You’ll see to the queen later.”
My blood froze. The seamstress was coming back? Was this a trick? Maybe she was really returning with the king’s guards.
Daselis emerged from the bathing room. “In,” she said.
“You look tired,” Erea murmured. “Bad sleep?”
My mind had refused to allow me to rest. Instead, it had helpfully provided me with images of Caraceli’s hate-filled eyes, Thol’s handsome face, and Lorian snarling down at me. Not to mention the fear that, at any point, Telean could tell others just what she’d noticed about my eyes.
“It wasn’t the best.”
“Must be difficult sleeping in such a large bed in such a warm room,” Daselis muttered.
I sighed and walked into the bathing room. Behind me, Erea and Daselis had a hissed conversation.
Erea slipped into the room and chatted to me, likely attempting to make up for Daselis’s grim mood. I nodded occasionally, although she didn’t seem to require a response. My attention was caught when she discussed Lorian.
“I heard Prince Rekja has gone hunting with the king today. He’s so handsome,” she sighed.
I stored that information away. It was always a good idea to know what Lorian was up to.
“Bathe quickly,” Daselis muttered when she leaned her head in.
“I will.”
Erea left me to finish, and I ran the stone she’d given me over my legs. It somehow removed the hair, making my legs smooth. Although it couldn’t remove the scars and bruises that decorated my shins.
My finger brushed against the scar on my knee, and Thol’s face flashed in my mind. Asinia still teased me about the day Thol had been training with Tibris. And Thol had taken off his shirt.
I’d been just eighteen winters at the time, walking past the clearing where the boys trained.
That was the moment I’d realized that Thol was no longer a boy.
I’d tripped, falling flat on my face, and almost every boy in our village had seen. My eyes had burned, my cheeks had blazed, but it had been Thol who’d stopped training and helped me up. Thol who’d grinned down at me, all that smooth, pale skin on display.
The moment I’d seen him yesterday, I’d wanted nothing more than to step in front of him until he recognized me.
I’d wanted to tell him that, yes, I was corrupt, but it wasn’t my fault and the king was a filthy liar and there was more to life than training for the king’s armies and handing over our power like puppets.