32. Raithe #2
“They didn’t get along. Their exchanges were always tense, though it was quickly determined that was how Maryn was with everyone. No one else has pushed back against her tightening leash since the current barons selected her to be queen regent.”
“Except me,” she said carefully. “And you.”
Our eyes held for a beat before I tore mine away. The longer I stared into them, the more I forgot what my true purpose for coming here was.
“Your back,” she prompted, her tone gentler. “Is it healed?”
I nodded. “Your glyphs?”
“Coming along, I think.”
My gaze coasted along her golden skin. The glyphs up her neck and surrounding her face appeared to have sealed but were still inflamed. “Ignoring them won’t make them disappear.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then quickly closed it. Apparently, she was in more denial than I was about her Chosen status. And for some reason, that made me feel… regretful. I fixated on the door.
“Is leaving a queen unguarded something you would normally do, or do you feel I’m simply not worthy enough to be protected like all the others?”
“That’s not—” I composed myself before facing her again.
“Felaf and I are the only ones who know the truth about you. Once we bring your grandparents here, Maryn will want to question them herself. We need to make sure they understand that their long-lost granddaughter is Novah Artemis, a nomadic dancer born in Pipirima.”
“Rahzlyn never existed. To my grandmother, that is,” she said.
She shrugged, watching me with an unguarded expression that I couldn’t look away from.
“Rahzlyn was who I wanted to be, not the eligible bride my grandmother pawned me off as. It’s not lost on me now, though.
That my name is Roselyn? That I happened to be the Black Rose when you found me.
I know it’s connected somehow. Trust me, I have as many questions as you do. ”
Against my better judgement, I was beginning to believe she was inadvertently honest—to a fault.
“There was something about my hair that was paramount for me to get the job,” Rahzlyn continued, oblivious to my frightening inner revelation.
“I heard my brother’s friends talking about it, and then Allory when she explained why she couldn’t be the Black Rose even though she was clearly a better dancer than me.
Honestly, I think my hair is the only reason I got the job. I was terrible at it.”
Rahzlyn lowered her legs and rose to a seated position again, water glistening atop the swells of her—
I glanced up again. For fuck’s sake, they’re just breasts.
“Everyone has always been obsessed with my hair,” Rahzlyn murmured. “Including Kole, my… friend. Why? It’s… I’m nothing special.”
Now wasn’t the time to reveal her lover was part of the apostai. Our conversation was surprisingly amiable. She talked to me unguardedly, and I…
I didn’t mind it. I cut a testing glance back down at her, feeling the need for some inexplicable reason to voice, “It wasn’t, by the way.”
“What wasn’t?”
“Your hair wasn’t the only reason.” I cleared my suddenly raspy throat. “Your dancing was far from terrible.”
She’d danced languidly on that stage, her movements fluid and amorous. Many deemed her performance sensual, but beneath the mask she wore, it was her passion that shone through. It was what captivated me the second she stepped onto that stage.
It was why, deep down, I’d lingered in that private room with her for so long before returning to my mission.
She bit back a grin. “Seen many dancers, have you?”
“You were good.”
Her cheeks reddened. “How so?”
“Passionate. Authentic. Evocative.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, as if needing to be heard by her.
As my admission lingered, her grin blossomed. “You’re not just saying that because I almost seduced you, are you?”
“You did not almost seduce me.” Images of her straddling me sent heat up my spine. “Felaf is waiting for me,” I lied. Felaf was still in her chamber talking with Letti, not quite ready to depart.
“Wait,” Rahzlyn suddenly pleaded. “Don’t… don’t go.”
I stared at her in confusion, certain that I was the last person she’d want to keep her company. After everything, I should have been.
“Talking to you is the first time I haven’t felt burdened by everything today,” she confessed. “I know we don’t—I know we’re not—” She chewed at the skin of her lower lip. “Could you stay for a few moments longer?”
A strange spark of lightness touched my chest at her unexpected request. I didn’t know what else to do with it besides taking a stiff seat on the wooden stool not too far from her. But our proximity was too close for comfort. I scooted back.
“Do I make you nervous?” she observed with a grin. “Because if so, I’ll permit your leave.”
“I don’t get nervous.”
Rahzlyn chuckled. “Sure.”
“I’ve seen a lot of things in my life. Nothing scares me anymore.”
“I can’t tell if I’m envious, or…”
“Or what?” I queried. Her already flushed cheeks deepened. I marveled at the expressive coloring. “Do I make you nervous?”
“Hardly.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
Our gazes held. Her pupils dilated drastically. “Good.”
“Good.”
Good? My hands curled into fists. What was happening?
“Their names are Iris and Elias, by the way,” Rahzlyn said, continuing to peer at me in a way that made my pulse race. “My grandparents. Will you tell them something for me when you see them?”
“You can tell them yourself in a few hours.”
“Tell my grandmother I’m sorry. For everything. That’ll make facing her here a little easier.”
I studied her timid movements. Her passion dimmed as she spoke about the family she seemed to care so much for. I leaned forward, resting my elbows atop my knees. “Why do you think being Chosen is your punishment?” The question that had been on my mind. “Most view it as a gift.”
“All my life my grandmother believed I was destined for one thing and one thing only.” Rahzlyn held up a single finger.
“Marriage. In a masculine kingdom, that’s not uncommon, of course.
Fewer opportunities exist for unmarried women.
And while I certainly enjoy sex and intimacy, I wanted to prove that maybe I could beat the odds and do something with my life without a man or his money. ”
Her casual mention of sex had me shifting to accommodate my suddenly tight uniform.
“But I never got the opportunity to do so,” she continued.
“Everything I did paled in comparison to that of my brother anyway. Sometimes I wondered if they loved him more because he reminded them of their son—our father—whom they never spoke of. I said as much once when we were younger. But rather than be concerned about why I felt that way, she chastised me for being too sensitive. Too emotional. Too… everything.”
I was enraptured by her honesty. “Perhaps you’re more Scorpion than you’re ready to believe. As a water sign, we are ruled by our emotions.”
She gestured at me. “You certainly don’t let your emotions get the better of you.”
I arched a brow at her. “You seem to be forgetting my—how did you put it? Obsession with the apostai.”
Glancing away, Rahzlyn said, “The truth is I’m ashamed. That’s why I’m nervous for you to bring them here. If my grandfather were still in his right mind, I’d also worry about what a disappointment I’ve become to him.”
I leaned into my senses, hearing the apprehension in her voice. What I didn’t understand was why. From the moment I met her she had been a force of energy, for better or worse. For her to be so timid, insecure even, seemed wrong. “Why do you say that?”
She hesitated a moment, but whatever she found in my face emboldened her. “Books and numbers couldn’t hold my attention. Instead, I found myself lost in music, in stories, in dancing… in the wind.”
I caught the longing in her voice as she lifted her gaze to the ceiling. Finally, my intuition resurrected itself, imploring me for some odd reason to preserve those words to memory.
In the wind.