Chapter 23
“I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you,” Carmine said as I entered the same dining room.
We’d had an unsuccessful family luncheon here in the past, but otherwise, I’d only been in here when Carmine got it in his head that we should share a private dinner.
I used to love them.
A second plate was set to the right of his throne. I’d hoped for an opposite ends of the table seating plan. “I’d be surprised if the mating magic between us would allow for any other perception.”
I sat, and my battle attire creaked.
“How do you see me?” he asked.
Couldn’t we start with hello? I sighed. “You are the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.”
And that was true. Physically. The rest was shit.
His gaze lowered over my battle attire. “I like seeing our mating designs on you.”
I grabbed my goblet. “I was thinking that you should brand them onto my skin.”
He brought my free hand to his lips. “No, enamai. It is I who wears your brands. That is how it’s meant to be.”
My insides shuddered. “What’s all this for?”
This romance.
Ick.
“This is a chance for me to tell you all the thoughts of you I have while we’re not in the company of others.”
Servants appeared with trays. They set them out before us.
“We will serve ourselves,” Carmine informed them.
They left the room again.
Roasted piuk. Glazed root vegetables. My stomach rumbled. My memories of hunting to live out in the desert weren’t so long ago that I’d forgotten to appreciate delicious food that was killed and harvested, then cooked without any effort from me.
Carmine placed a thigh and some breast on my plate, then some vegetables.
“I lied to you,” he said, as he piled food on his plate next.
He what? How could he? I almost laughed. “Let me know when you tell the truth. That would shock me more.”
His brows furrowed, but he said, “When our joining ritual failed, I knew why. I coerced you into the next ritual. That stood between us, and so you did not mean the words of the ritual. The mating magic sensed that deception or reluctance and decided we were not compatible, so it tried to kill us.”
I picked up my fork and didn’t answer. I’d come to the same conclusion after the joining ceremony, but he was leaving out a whole other part.
“I do not have an issue with your reluctance,” he said after. “There are many reasons why it is wise for us to not continue the mating. But I will not share another ritual with you unless you are willing.”
How nice of him.
Carmine watched me eat, and eventually I met his gaze.
He said, “I also need to know if you purposefully agreed to the ritual in the hopes I would use my power to save you.”
I stared. “What?”
“Did you enter the ritual in order to gain my power?”
Ice Carmine was suddenly here, and I meant suddenly. Usually he came with a roar or a charge. He’d just slipped into place without warning.
My mind stuttered. “Did I risk dying for your power? Are you kidding me? Why would I do that?”
Really. I wanted to know. This had everything to do with the white magic. It had to. He’d poured power into me to save me, and I’d gained some of his power, apparently. Did that mean he’d been weaker since the ceremony?
“Why did you have those two books in your possession?” he demanded.
My gut flared in warning. “Because I saw them on your nightstand.”
“Why were they hidden in your wardrobe?”
“I didn’t want you to know about them.”
Carmine’s jaw clenched. “What do you feel since the joining ritual?”
“Your location,” I answered. What was he digging for?
“Have you felt my power?”
I was stumped. “You poured power into me to save me, Carmine. You know as well as I that your power can’t stay within me. You recover that magic. Otherwise, how would healers exist? You’re being ridiculous.”
That was all true when it came to mere smoke and magic. Now I knew the white magic behaved differently. It didn’t return to its owner. It could be lost.
He searched my expression.
That was why he didn’t want to continue the mating. He couldn’t risk a failed ritual again and another loss of power trying to save me.
If that wasn’t a giant clue on how to steal power from Carmine, then I didn’t know what was. How many times did I need to die before I rid him of white magic? Before I did anything like that, I had to know how to control it for myself.
Carmine leaned back, and I could breathe again.
“I needed that matter clear,” he said, the ice melting in his gaze.
Happy to help.
I might as well use this as a fact-finding mission. “Tell me how you developed your power so quickly. You’ve told me that you used to hold in smoke for long periods of time while locked in the dungeons. How did you gain such control over your magic?”
His face turned stony. “There was nothing else to do. I’d practice with my magic to pass the time. Release my smoke so the guards thought I was still weak, and I’d plot your father’s murder.”
“I don’t know why he didn’t kill you.” I glanced at Carmine. “You were a threat to the throne. Why didn’t he get rid of you as soon as he was crowned?”
If Carmine and Athira were to be believed—which I wasn’t sure they were—then Carmine had little to no control over killing any threats to the throne. Athira had made it sound like her mate and prior kings hadn’t had any control over it either.
Carmine wrapped his fingers around his goblet.
“That is something I have wondered for a long time. It should not have been possible for him to let me live. Though I was weaker than him for most of that time. I believe the distraction of your mother must have saved me. He was drawn to Earth for many months, and in that time, I gained enough power to gain the upper hand.”
Bingo! I’d just narrowed my search window dramatically, and the location. I was nearly twenty-one. So around twenty-two years ago, or a little prior to that, was when Carmine had harnessed the white magic. In the dungeons.
How?
I was a divination affinity. Had I ever summoned an echo of past events? No. Was I strong enough to achieve it? Probably not.
“He was alive after your birth for a time,” Carmine murmured. “Yet he did not kill me then either. I was ready for him. But he did not come. I spent each day plotting and growing stronger. It did not make sense for him to kill me, unless he was protecting you.”
He shook his head, the meal forgotten. “But how did he achieve that? He should not have been able to reason through the killing of a threat to the throne. He shouldn’t have had the capacity to stop himself eliminating me to keep his mate and twin daughters safe for longer.
No… more likely that he had seen that I would win.
By avoiding the battle, he was delaying the time when I would learn of you and your sister.
Perhaps he hoped that I would remain in the dungeons until after you gained your demon powers. ”
Carmine didn’t often lose himself in thought like this.
I said softly, so as not to disturb his state, “Why are you unable to stop yourself from killing a threat to the throne?”
“Not just me, enamai. Any king. Any king for as long as my line has reigned. The power of a king does not allow for such threats to live. Yet your father was not of my line. Is that why he had some measure of control? I have wondered for much of my life.”
I’d never once considered learning more about my father in this mystery. Now I was kicking myself.
Carmine sipped at his goblet, and I did the same.
“Your father was too smart to remain king,” he said. “And that choice was a wonder in itself.”
I scanned his face. “What does that mean?”
What did most of this mean? I had to replay this conversation to Tsan and see if the yellow could pick anything out.
Carmine didn’t answer, but after watching me for a time, he said, “If your intention was to gain my power during the ritual, then I implore you to rethink the strategy. There are some things that I would never wish on another, especially not on you. My power…” His throat worked.
“Enamai, my power will make you sick. It will change you. And watching that happen to you would be the end of me.”
My chest rose. In times like these, when I could feel him as he might have been without the dungeon trauma, then I could feel the mate who I would have loved and fought to the death for.
Yet he wasn’t real.
He’s not real, Syera.
This demon, these words, they weren’t real beyond this moment. They would exist for seconds before ice froze them.
Carmine rose and extended his forearm. “Come, enamai. I have scared you, and that was not my intention for this dinner.” He kissed the back of my hand, then set it in place over his closed fist.
Scared? No. Regretful over what might have been? Yes. Curious concerning all the clues that might help me to save Adeuto? Yes.
“I thought you planned elaborate, romantic dinners for all of the women,” I said, walking a few steps with him.
“Never,” he stopped to say. “Never another for me. You are it, Syera. If there is not you, then I hope to be as smart as your father.”
I swallowed at his expression and walked beside him.
To war.
To the second war of the evening, or so it felt.