Chapter 8
My life felt like a constant dead end.
On the one hand, I felt like Carmine must know the truth after our dream last night. On the other… I knew what had to happen next, but not the steps to get there.
The location sensor mating gift was a real bitch.
Knock, knock.
I swung open the door to find Tsan dressed in his best loincloth. “I never thought I’d be friends with someone who likes loincloths,” I remarked.
He scanned my outfit. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“That this family dinner will be torture?”
“Yes, do you want to know what else I think?”
I sensed an intelligent insult ahead. “Go ahead.”
“You’re in denial about how much you like demon fashion. You’re starting to prefer it, but you don’t want to admit that because you’ve judged our fashions so strongly in the past. So you get Yiti to create designs that are half a step away from a loincloth so you can continue to exist in denial.”
I rubbed my chest. “Ouch.”
“Too much truth?”
“Is that what it was? I thought my organs were dissolving.” I sighed. “But I recently came to that conclusion myself. I’d done a pretty good job returning to denial since concluding that.”
I glared at him, and he grinned.
“So,” Tsan said as we turned down the next hall. “Family dinner.”
“Dinner.” I grunted. “Eat quickly. This won’t last long.”
My gut clenched. Because this was a power play, and I could guess Tyran’s power play would involve my only friend.
I lowered my voice. “Do you know what my job is during this dinner?”
Tsan exhaled. “A yellow demon can guess. And he wants to tell a black demon that she needs to do everything she has to.”
My heart sank, even as relief lightened some of the burden. His understanding helped to steel me to play my role. I also knew that I couldn’t take hurting Tsan beyond a certain point.
That was what worried me.
The double doors of the king’s private dining chamber were open. I strode in, dressed in a white bandeau and white sarong without material to cover the sides of my thighs. Not a loincloth.
Athira was seated and playing with a dagger. She glanced up at Tsan. “Servant, get me fermented pli.”
She knew well and good that Tsan wasn’t a servant.
I answered, “You know who Tsan is, Athira. He’s here by special invitation from the king.”
She hummed. Yep, Athira could likely guess why Tsan was here.
“I don’t see what that has to do with him fetching me a drink,” Athira said.
“Careful, Mother,” I answered in the same tone. “I’m not in a good mood. A single comment from you could earn you another dagger in the thigh.”
Her gaze flicked to Tsan and back to me, and I nodded.
Athira would become my punching bag if her son took things too far with Tsan. Athira was stronger, at the end of the day, and I just didn’t mind hurting her as much as I did my friend.
Because her personality sucked.
Though perhaps part of me could admit that I had a strong belief in my mother-in-law’s ability to take a hit.
“Did you hear that Tsan has been invited to the war council?” I said, taking my seat opposite Carmine’s.
Athira resumed playing with her dagger. “I don’t care.”
Tsan studied the table settings, then took the only setting down my end—the one on my right. Another little message from the demon king. I know what he means to you.
The others still weren’t here.
I checked the immediate surroundings and Carmine’s location. Nowhere close, but Gratia and Raes would arrive soon.
I opened a small portal to my room to retrieve a letter.
I banished the letter to Athira, who scowled at me before quickly opening it on her lap.
Our meetings had to be few and far between. Demons would notice or hear or sense afterward. But there was so much to tell both her and Tsan to keep my plan moving.
With Tsan in particular, I wanted to discuss my findings and hear his take on what everything could mean. The dream, for starters, and Tyran’s insecure behavior over my power plays. Hge. Neti’s refusal to tell me where the blue gems were.
Athira was easier. I had clear tasks for her. I didn’t want her thoughts as much as her ability to move around without Carmine having a constant GPS signal for her whereabouts. He trusted his mother, and that made her valuable.
“Got it,” she murmured. Athira scrunched up the letter as Gratia and Raes walked in.
Gratia focused on the letter, frowning when Athira incinerated it.
“Daughter,” Athira said after.
Brr. Cold.
Gratia ignored the greeting and scanned all of us. “What’s going on?”
I answered, “Your brother invited Tsan.”
“Not that. What were you all discussing?” the crimson princess asked. “It’s tense.”
Gratia could be discerning, especially when she wanted to hurt someone. Right now, that list included her mother and me—we’d both earned a spot for interfering with her mating with Raes.
Raes took his place at the table, two seats from Carmine’s left. Gratia would sit between them.
“I was describing your mother’s best qualities,” I replied. “She’s not tense. She’s overwhelmed with gratitude.”
I needed to get myself off Gratia’s list. She’d been uncertain and vulnerable while her mating found its footing, but I could sense a return to her usual self.
Gratia had come to some realization about her mating. From their closeness, I could see that realization was in the right direction.
Time for me to fess up. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses about Raes and your future together.”
Gratia’s eyes narrowed as she stood behind her seated mate-intended. “What senses?”
My lips twitched. “More sense than two weeks ago, sister. I worried that we might never see them again, but I had to remind myself of my lack of sense during the early stages of my mating with Carmine.”
“The mating you still haven’t completed,” she shot back.
“I told you once to be reassured that your mating would never look like mine. As it was, I went to great lengths to force you to see sense when it came to Raes. You can thank me in your own time. Just whenever it suits your immortality. I can wait.”
Gratia glanced at Raes, who sipped from his goblet. He didn’t seem to mind what was in there, just that he wouldn’t need to meet either of our gazes while taking the sip.
I smiled at her over his head. “You should have seen your face when I arrived at the smithy that time.” I laughed—genuinely. I’d inherited my family’s twisted sense of humor.
I added, “Or when I had Raes promoted to weapons trainer. Oh, my favorite? When I declared myself as his protector at dinner. I admit the birthday celebration and introducing him to so many single females took it too far. I had to banish Cyz to be desert warden after. She got too ambitious about what it would mean to become companion to the king’s future brother-in-law.
Not that Raes would have gone to those lengths if you’d… had a grip on your senses.”
Gratia’s chest rose. She didn’t know if I was serious.
Raes glanced back and muttered, “She’s telling the truth. I was in on some parts.”
Gratia blinked. “What parts?”
“The promotion to weapons trainer. The birthday celebration. I didn’t like what she was doing at first. Not that I had a choice. I couldn’t really stop her either.”
“Nope,” I said.
“You could have told me,” she said between gritted teeth.
He twisted to grab her hand, then kissed the back.
“I was desperate enough to try anything in the end, and even if you don’t want to admit it…
Her plan worked. Each time she tried to drive a wedge between us, you rose to the occasion.
You weren’t willing to let anyone—queen or otherwise—get between us. ”
Gratia delivered her mate with a look that spoke volumes for the heated discussion they’d have later. Then she looked at me, expression smooth. “Is that all true?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I could sense that your mating was as likely to work out as not. I’d had another encounter shortly before yours with a couple who’d been through a similar situation.
Their child’s magic suffered great pain because of the uncertainty between them in their early mating.
When I saw you both struggling, I felt like you needed a gentle nudge. ”
Her mouth curved. “A gentle nudge?”
Athira shook her head. “If I’d known your game, then I would have taken more measures to counter your efforts. I was so close to breaking them apart.”
Gratia’s humor evaporated. Even Raes turned his head to look at Athira. More than he’d dared to do so far.
“You wouldn’t have succeeded,” Gratia answered, and I could hear her tenuous hold on restraint.
“I was nearly there,” said her mother. “You’ve made the worst mistake of your life.”
I didn’t understand Athira’s determination to hate Raes, but I was supposed to be really mean, and I’d already confessed to helping Gratia’s mating, so I wasn’t about to intervene.
“And you made yours, Mother,” Gratia whispered. “You lost a daughter.”
“A daughter I’ll lose anyway when her mate dies.”
Tsan hadn’t uttered a peep, and why would he? Family dinners. Seriously. Thank the mother that demons didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas.
“Is that a threat?” Gratia hissed.
“No,” said Athira. “This is a threat.”
In a blur, she was behind Raes, but when the dagger in her hand flashed toward his neck, Raes was ready. He blocked Athira’s slicing attack with a long dagger, then shoved her forward with his other hand. She staggered against the table, not shifting her dagger from near his throat.
Raes unleashed an attack of his own at her neck with a second, shorter dagger.
Athira raised a second dagger to block his weapon.
They locked in position. Athira’s dagger hovering above his carotid, and Raes’s dagger hovering above hers.
Go, Raes. That had to feel good. Athira was fucking strong.
Gratia’s eyes shone with pride, and I had a feeling that Raes had managed to do the impossible and extract himself from the dogbox. He may even receive a pat on the back from Gratia later. Or a pat somewhere.
Carmine entered.
He ignored the little family dispute occurring and took his throne opposite me.
Athira removed her dagger first, and Raes reciprocated.