Chapter 51 Odessa
Fifty-One
Odessa
Puffs of steam fogged the bathing chamber as I slipped through the door. The scents of lavender, mint, and eucalyptus filled my nose, the combination clean and fresh.
Ransom’s arms were draped over the edge of the tub, his head lolled to the side as he soaked.
Sound asleep.
His beard was damp and his hair wet, the ends tickling his shoulders. A drop of water sluiced off his chest, plopping into the tub with a plunk.
Shades, he was beautiful. My fingers itched to trace the straight line of his nose and full pout of his lips. His strong, masculine features and muscled torso would be the next sketch I added to my journal.
The sight of him made my heart skip.
I could stare at him for hours, but I shied away, wanting him to rest. Except before I could sneak out the door, he jerked awake. His eyes were bleary for a moment, like he’d forgotten where he fell asleep.
When he saw me, they closed again and he relaxed deeper into the water. “Spying, Cross?”
“Wolfe,” I corrected, walking to the tub to perch on its edge. “I’m thinking about taking my husband’s name. But we’ll see. I’m undecided.”
“Undecided?” The corner of his mouth turned up as he flicked water onto my shirt. When he opened his eyes, they were a soft, mossy shade of green.
If only we could erase the dark veins on his chest.
One of the lines had snaked toward the hollow beneath his throat. If it crawled up his neck, he wouldn’t be able to hide it with his clothes.
Ransom followed my gaze, looking down to his heart. “Don’t worry. Once we get back to Turah, the High Priest will siphon the Lyssa from my blood. They’ll fade.”
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach.
According to the High Priest, there was no way to remove it entirely from Ransom’s body. The infection and the blood had fused so thoroughly, it would be impossible to separate them completely. So he siphoned enough to temper the effects of Lyssa by diluting it in Ransom’s body.
What if we didn’t get back to Turah in time? What if the migration trapped us in Roslo for months? We couldn’t wait that long. And I still wasn’t convinced the High Priest was on our side. All I could hear was Brother Dime’s warning about Ransom’s loyalty.
Could Brother Dime siphon the infection? Ransom had said once that the High Priest had attuned his magic to Lyssa, so it had to be possible for another priest to do it, too.
“You should rest today. Avoid the chaos in the castle.” I drew a circle in the water with my fingertip, ripples spreading across its mirrored surface. “I’m going to find Mae.”
“No.”
I gave him a sad smile. “She’s the only sister I have. And something is wrong. I know you don’t trust her. But you trust me, right?”
I’d practiced that all morning. The look on his face said he knew it, too.
“Odessa. No. She crossed a line yesterday.”
“I know.” I sighed. “But before we leave, I have to at least try to talk to her. If the unthinkable happens during the migration, I don’t want yesterday to be how we remember each other.”
He frowned. But he didn’t tell me no.
“I love you.”
He hooked a finger under my chin, pulling me in for a chaste kiss. “Be careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
“The most terrifying part of that statement is you actually believe it.”
I rolled my eyes and splashed water in his face, earning a chuckle, then stood. “I’ll take Evie to the nursery.”
“No, leave her. We need some time to talk.”
I stilled. “Are you going to tell her about Zavier?”
“Not yet. But it’s time we start preparing her to lose Faze.”
“Not yet.” My heart dropped. “He’s not ready.” I wasn’t ready.
Ransom sighed. “We can’t keep him forever, my love.”
“I know.” The endearment softened the blow but just barely. “After the migration, I’ll set him free. I promise.”
“I’ll do it,” he said.
I shook my head. “No, he’s mine.”
“Then together.”
“Together.” I gave him a sad smile, then left him to his bath.
The ache in my chest followed me out of the suite and to the castle’s main level. How were we supposed to let Faze go? Ransom was right. Faze was born to roam free. And he was going to hate being trapped in a migration shelter for months. Still, he was our pet tarkin. A part of our family.
I was so busy nursing a wounded heart that I didn’t hear the argument in Margot’s dining room until I was just outside the door.
“Tell her,” Margot snapped. “Or I will.”
“Do not threaten me, Margot.” My father’s voice made my blood run cold.
I’d never heard her challenge him before.
Margot let out a dry laugh. “Or what?”
There was a hopelessness in her voice, like he’d hurt her so thoroughly during their marriage that she had gone numb. That she had nothing left to lose.
“Don’t think I am ignorant to what happens in this castle or your bedroom.” Father had to mean Hawksley. Gods. “I have let you continue with your dalliance, but don’t test me. And do not forget your place.”
Wait. Was he okay with her having an affair with his general? Maybe they were both having affairs.
“I am well aware of my place.” She let out a frustrated growl.
“It’s by your side. How could I forget? I have stood beside you, dutifully, for decades.
I have loved you. I have done everything you have asked.
I have stayed quiet, watching you become this shell of a man.
I have tolerated every insult you have thrown my way and obeyed every command.
And in my place, I have never asked you for anything.
I’m asking now. Tell her the truth. Before it’s too late. ”
There was a pregnant pause. Then came the sound of breaking glass, like he’d thrown a goblet against the wall.
I was still reeling, my heart in my throat, when footsteps marched in my direction. And before I could escape, Margot stormed through the door.
She drew up short in the hall, surprised for a moment. Then her expression hardened and she crossed her arms over her chest. “So you did learn how to spy while you were in Turah.”
“I’m sorry.” My cheeks went hot. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“Of course you did.” She pursed her lips, then walked away.
“Margot?” I stopped her, waiting until she turned. “What isn’t he telling me?”
Her gaze drifted to the dining room door, and for a moment, I thought she might actually give me an honest answer. Instead, she lifted her chin. “What makes you think we were talking about you? The world does not revolve around you, Odessa.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Shit. “Is it Mae? Is she okay?”
“No, she’s not.” Without another word, Margot swept away, her posture perfect and regal, the skirts of her teal gown streaming behind her.
A queen making her exit.
I moved to follow her down the hall, but the silence in the dining room lured me back, and before I lost my nerve, I walked inside. This was likely the worst possible time to approach my father, but I needed to find Brother Dime.
I hoped Father would want to get rid of me enough to just point me in the right direction.
He was crouched against the wall, picking up shards of broken glass. Something a servant could do. Instead, he was cleaning up his mess.
I went over and bent down, plucking a large piece off the marble.
His gaze lifted. “You don’t need to do this, Dess.”
“I’ll help.” I wished I didn’t like it so much when he called me Dess. I wished it didn’t give me hope that our relationship wasn’t a lost cause.
We collected the jagged pieces of glass, piling them on an empty plate on the table.
As he picked up the final bits, I wiped my hands on my pants. “I came to ask you a question. I need to find Brother Dime. Is he still in the castle?”
Father stilled, his hand hovering over the floor. “No.”
That sounded like a lie. “Do you have a way to contact him? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
He stood, not meeting my eyes as he dropped the pieces in his hand on the plate. “No.”
And that lie was blatant. “Please.”
“Why?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“It’s for Ransom.”
Father’s lip curled. “The Guardian.”
“Don’t,” I chided. “Why do you do that? Why do you dislike him?”
“I don’t trust him.”
Fair. The day they arrived in Quentis, Ransom had let Zavier convince us he was the prince. He’d been dishonest to Father from the start. “You don’t have to trust him. But can you trust me?”
I regretted the question the moment it was past my lips.
Father’s jaw clenched. His silent no was as loud as shattering glass.
Brother Dime had warned me that the truth was rarely gentle.
Well, let the suffering begin.
“All this time, I wanted to be good enough for you. But truth is, you were never good enough for me.”
He flinched.
I left him with his broken glass.
Later, I’d feel sad. But today, I needed help. Ransom needed help. If Father wouldn’t tell me where I could find Brother Dime, then I’d figure it out myself.
The priest stayed in this castle. Maybe there was a maid or servant who could point me to those quarters.
I was rounding a corner, about to duck down a stairwell that would take me to the lower levels of the castle where the staff worked, when a swish of pale blue caught my eye.
It was gone in a blink, but I knew that color.
Brother Skore’s robes.
I gasped and changed directions, my boots smacking on the floor as I raced to follow.
Was that really him? Why was he here? Was he searching for me?
Given our last interaction, after the waterfall, I had no desire to be around the priest. But I wanted to know what the hell he was doing in Father’s castle.
The hallway opened to a foyer filled with castle guards. They stood in neat rows, all eyes locked on Captain Brix at the front of the room, standing on a small platform, reading from a page as he doled out orders and assignments.
I weaved through the crush, skirting to the back of the space as I stood on my toes, searching for Brother Skore.
His tall, lanky frame and bald head vanished down another corridor.
“Dismissed,” Brix called, and the guards scattered, blocking my view of Skore.