49. Riggs
RIGGS
Why won’t she look at me?
A film of lipstick clung to his mouth like tar. Tasted like it too. Too consumed in Esemeray, he hadn’t seen Izara coming. He didn’t blame Esemeray for not looking at him.
I fucked up and made a deal with the devil.
He blew out a breath, staring at the plate in front of him. He shoved a potato off the ceramic, pushing it off the table, and into his palm.
He needed to create a distraction.
His thundering heart merged with the blended conversations, making it hard to concentrate. Be smart. It was bad enough he had told Oliver to stop godsdamned flirting with Esemeray. If Izara saw that…worse? If she had heard… His chest clenched.
Deal or not, Riggs wasn’t going to allow a second more of Oliver trying to get his girl drunk. Or another second of Esemeray feeling uneasy. By the looks of it, Killian didn’t fill Esemeray in like he asked him to. Riggs needed to explain himself to her.
Riggs eyed everyone, stuffing their faces, cringing as Izara slurped her soup like a dog, her cheeks puffing with every spoonful.
She’s really loading up.
He smashed the potato in his hand, starch covering his palms, assessing exactly how his plan was going to work. Voices muffled around him as he brainstormed.
Toss the food on Izara somehow. She leaves to clean up. I move in on Esemeray and explain myself.
Solid plan.
Izara brushed his arm, breaking his thoughts. “Did you hear me?”
Riggs nervously chuckled, shaking his head.
“Where did my Rigsby go?” She grazed his chin with her nails, clicking her tongue. “I said, now is the time to ask my father about visiting the library.”
He opened his palm, smashed potatoes falling to the ground. He reached for his napkin, cleaning any remnants.
There goes my plan.
“You are acting so silly,” Izara teased, brushing her fingertips along the top of his arm. “What’s going on with you?”
As much as he wanted to move away from her touch, he could not.
Riggs' eyes fell to her snake ring, his breath shallowing. Once she slipped the ring off, her eyes would turn as silver as her hair, granting her full control over his mind. Riggs knew the risks but was still stupid enough to play with her heart. He hadn’t meant to lead her on.
He was truly interested in her at one point in his life.
Until he learned: once you fuck a Rhabari, you are to wed to them.
It is a blessing I escaped from her two years ago.
A servant appeared, cleaning up the mess by their feet.
Izara scoffed, shoving the woman away. “You are in my space.”
Face heating in vicarious embarrassment, Riggs turned to Kohen. “Sir, I have a question.” His heart thundered, with each passing second it took for Kohen to respond.
A sinister smile spread across Kohen’s wrinkly face. “As do I.”
Of fucking course he does. “You go first, sir.”
Kohen chuckled, his gaze leaping between his daughter and Riggs. A servant arrived with a cigar in a creme box, placing the rolled leaf between Kohen’s lips, sparking it with a flame then scurrying away.
The cherry blazed bright as Kohen inhaled, smoke clouding his mouth as he asked, “When do you plan on marrying my daughter?”
Riggs' eyes rounded. What the fuck?
Everyone went silent. The only sound was silverware dropping out of Esemeray’s trembling hands, clinking through the room. Killian placed his hand over hers, holding her hand firmly to the table and whispered something to her.
Riggs' breath caught. What have I done? He inhaled deeply, leather and spice strong in his nostrils. He tossed Esemeray a small smile, praying his look said, “I’m sorry, I’ll explain.”
Izara came into his line of sight, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Remember to play along,” she whispered, twisting her ring, the golden band spinning, “or else.”
Riggs fought the urge to wipe the sweat rolling down his temple.
Earlier, Izara had followed him to his room, demanding they make it appear they were still together—for her father, and in exchange, she would help him access the library.
At the time, it had sounded like a good deal to strike.
He had promised to find information on Esemeray’s shadows.
Told Killian it was for Elora. Win win. Riggs sighed, absently toying with the napkin in front of him.
Now with Esemeray emotionally hurt—he wished he never agreed.
Hell with discovering the truth—hell with it all.
Riggs shifted his focus to Kohen, and finally spoke, “That is something I would like to discuss in private.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, Riggs fought to keep his features neutral. “I was curious if I could use your library for research purposes.”
Kohen grumbled, choking on smoke. A servant approached, and he dismissed her with a wave.
“Leave me. I’m fine.” He cleared his throat.
“I suppose that would be alright.” He set the cigar down, slicing through his lamb and taking a bite.
Humming while he chewed, he announced, “Tomorrow you will have free rein of the library, then we shall discuss your engagement with my daughter before you leave for years at a time again.”
Damn, way for Izara to make me look bad. Riggs forced a stiff smile. “Tomorrow.”
“Please excuse me,” Esemeray murmured, gently scooting her chair in, and disappearing down the hall.
Riggs shrank from the hurt in her voice, the pain in her eyes. His chest tightened. Riggs stood, meeting Izara’s stare. “Excuse me, I need to relieve myself.”
Izara’s eyes were hazy and full of lust. “I’ll keep you company.” She swiped her tongue over her teeth like a viscous, starving serpent.
“I’m backed up. I doubt you want to bask in my scent. It’s pretty bad.” A small, brittle smirk tilted his lips as his gut swirled low. He felt like an idiot with the situation he put himself in.
For the situation he put Esemeray in.
Izara crinkled her nose and pointed toward the back. “Around the corner.”
Riggs adjusted his robe, nodding his head in dismissal, and walked down the table, glancing at Killian, who had his brows knitted together.
Riggs ignored that too as he strode toward the privy.
But instead of opening the bronze door at the end of the hall, he turned toward the women’s quarters where men were not allowed.
Riggs didn’t care.
He needed to talk to her.