Chapter 22 #2
I ball my hands into fists and narrow my eyes. “And I’m the empress.”
“That you are, darling. That you are.”
“I hate you,” I seethe.
“I know.” He stabs another potato. “You should eat before it gets cold.”
“With any luck, Ludis will betray you and you’ll be dead before you gain his army.” To my horror, my stomach growls.
Caiden smirks. “I told you, you need to eat.”
Reluctantly, I pick up my fork and spear a piece of carrot. Starving myself isn’t going to help anyone.
Caiden takes a few more bites, watching as I do the same. I have to admit, as usual, the food is delicious. I hate how much I enjoy it.
He takes a sip of his wine, then wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Where were we? Oh, yes, Ludis. He wants the Shatterlands as badly as I do. His reasons are purely for power and wealth, making him much easier to manipulate.”
I finish chewing. “You can’t hold that continent. Nobody can.”
“I don’t need to hold it. I need to destroy it.” He doesn’t look up from the meat he’s cutting on his plate.
My lips part in surprise. “There’s millions of people who live there. You can’t be serious.”
He pauses, a chunk of meat on his fork. “You came here with a plan to kill me and my father. You would have seen hundreds or thousands dead for your rebellion. And you have. The rebels have more blood on their hands than I do, and you’re lecturing me?” He pops the food into his mouth.
“Good point. In fact, I should be encouraging you to go. You’re going to lose and then I’d be a widow. I’ll make sure to put on a good show at your funeral.” I set my fork down again, my appetite gone.
“You know, I thought you didn’t like me, but here you are, getting emotionally involved in my plans. I’ll break you yet,” he says.
I clench my jaw and consider what to say next. This whole thing with him has been nothing but confusing. “You don’t even actually want me. What if you just let me and my ladies go? We’ll leave. Move to a village where nobody knows us. Leave you alone.”
He smiles. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” I could name a hundred reasons why that would be a terrible idea for him, but I’m genuinely curious as to why he insists on keeping me around.
He stands, then walks around the table, then holds out his hand, palm up.
I look up at him, brow furrowed.
“Go on then,” he says.
“What?” I ask.
He moves his waiting palm closer. “Give me your hand.”
With a sigh, I set my hand in his. He pushes up the sleeve of my dress, revealing more of my gods mark. Slowly, he drags his fingertip along the twisting black vine, stopping where the fabric of my dress is bunched around my elbow.
“This is why. The gods gave you something of use in that temple. Regardless of any prophecy, I know a strong gods mark when I see one. And the ladies who cared for you told me there was more.”
“And why does that matter? It’s just a mark.”
He lowers my hand and I tuck it back under the table.
“Sometimes I forget you didn’t grow up with this. You didn’t prepare the way I did. Didn’t leave offerings for the gods or train every day to prepare for your visit to the temple.” He returns to his seat, then picks up his fork. “You should eat more.”
I make myself stab a piece of potato and bite into it. “Happy?”
He shrugs. “It’s a start.”
“So what is it that you learned that I don’t know? I thought it was all a big mystery. That your father just chose the best and sent them to the temple for the gods to judge. Though, in the village we were taught that your father himself is who gave the magic.”
“Of course you did. That was the myth he wanted shared about himself. It’s a wonder the gods didn’t strike him down themselves,” he says.
“It made it easier to believe considering how long he lived. We really thought him immortal. Is that why he hunted the relics? So that nobody could use them to kill him?” I gasp. “Or are you hunting them so you can do what he did and live forever?”
“No. It’s far less complicated. We use the relics as you saw to bind people, but it obviously doesn’t always work. Otherwise, I’d have tapped into your magic already. But you were my first attempt at binding, so I suppose I’ll improve.”
I take another, larger gulp of my wine. He thinks he just didn’t do it correctly. He knows he has no control over me. At least that explains the attempts to be nice. “So what do you use the relics for? Why not just leave them be?”
“Because they could open a channel to the gods the way the temple does,” he explains.
“That’s the difference, then? The lack of access? Are you telling me that it used to be that anyone could ask the gods for magic?”
“That’s what my father said. Though, I suspect they’d need mountains of relics to get the kind of magic needed to draw in the gods the way the grand temple does.”
“And you think it was fine to just cut everyone else off?” I don’t hide my anger.
“You don’t understand because you were born a commoner. There are just some things that shouldn’t be allowed for everyone.”
So much for trying to impress me. “I think I’m done here.” I set my fork down.
“You hardly ate.” He nods toward my plate.
“For some reason, I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“You know, that’s terrible for the baby.”
“For the love of the gods, Caiden. There’s no baby. Your informants were wrong.” I swallow hard, hoping I’m right. “But just in case, I think I should go. I need the rest.” I stand and start walking toward the door.
“We’re not finished, Sabina. I want to see that gods mark of yours.”
I stop walking. There’s no way I’m going to be able to prevent him from seeing it forever. “You want to see it? Is that what this whole thing is about?”
I march over to him. “Fine, then. I’ll show you and then I’m leaving.” I turn around and begin working on the laces of my dress, then let it fall to the ground around my feet. I’m getting used to being in just my underclothes.
“Where is it?” he asks.
“On my back.”
He approaches slowly and I tense.
“May I?” he’s standing behind me but doesn’t touch me.
I glance over my shoulder. “I thought you already demanded I show you.”
“Sabina, I’m trying here.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do with you. You don’t listen to me. You’re not afraid of me. And gods help me I hate that you’re in love with another man.”
“Why would you care about that?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He chuckles. “It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.”
“It’s because you want to own me. Because you don’t like sharing your toys. You’re a spoiled child.”
He closes the gap between us until we’re nearly touching. “You are infuriating.”
“So are you,” I bite out.
He slides his hand around the back of my head and leans forward until his lips are against mine and he’s kissing me. His other arm is around my waist, pulling me tighter against him. It happens so fast, I don’t have time to move away.