Chapter Thirteen Samira
THIRTEEN SAMIRA
I opened my eyes and stared up at the logs in the ceiling with furrowed brows. My room didn’t have logs in the ceiling. It was smooth, made of brown clay. I turned to ask Nadia—
I lurched upright.
The too-soft bed.
The bathing tub.
My queen’s nightgown discarded on the floor.
I wasn’t in my room in Khada Palace. I was in Kaldfold. Kaldfold.
Events flooded back to me with startling swiftness.
I swung my bare feet to the warm floor and willed my racing pulse to calm, drawing several deep breaths.
Velka said the king would explain everything today.
Rade had seemed… more reasonable than I’d expected.
Even if he hadn’t anticipated Queen Amunet being here, I didn’t think he wanted to kill me.
If he had, he would’ve done it the moment he saw me.
He certainly wouldn’t have unchained me and let me enjoy pork and kefir in the privacy of my own cabin.
No, he wanted something else. Something he needed me alive for.
Nerves slightly more settled now that I’d come to a decision, I did up the clasps of my tunic, stuffed my feet into boots, and knocked on the door.
The lock clicked, and then I was staring up into Keir’s smile, bordered by twisting blue tattoos. The morning sunlight peeking through the clouds behind him attempted to soften his harsh features. A useless endeavor. This man was anything but soft. “Morning, Majesty.”
I jutted my chin in the air as confidently as I could. “I wish to see the king.”
“That’s nice.”
“Will you… take me to him?”
“No.”
My bravado evaporated instantly. “Why not?”
“Uh, because you’re a prisoner. Was that not clear?” Keir crossed his arms over his chest, the sword at his hip flashing in the morning light. “Plus, he’s occupied.”
I nodded meekly and moved to shut the door. That had been a terrible idea. Making demands, as if I were Amunet. Keir could probably smell the lie of my bravado. I’d just have to wait in my room until I was summoned.
Keir’s foot wedged in the doorjamb. “That’s it?”
I paused. “What do you mean?”
“You’re just giving up?”
“Is there a point in fighting you?”
Keir’s eyes flickered analytically over my face. A skilled warrior who didn’t miss a thing. “Why didn’t you run?” Those kohl-rimmed eyes met mine in a probing stare. “You started to, but you stopped. Why?”
“You would’ve killed me if I had.”
“So you—what? Realized your mistake after making yourself bleed?”
“Yes.”
His nostrils didn’t flare, he didn’t sniff, yet somehow I knew he was scenting me.
He was searching for the truth, eyes raking over me.
We stood like that for a long moment, my face consciously relaxed.
I wouldn’t so much as twitch wrong. If there was one thing I’d learned in service to the Gods-Chosen, it was how to endure scrutiny.
A probing stare was nothing new. I reminded myself that I was still in her service, and right now it was my duty to convince them all that I was Queen Amunet, at least until I knew why I was here.
I squared my shoulders the way I’d seen her do thousands of times, and asked, “Why did you tell me you weren’t cannibals?”
“We had a deal, and I’m a man of my word.”
“You could have just said you wouldn’t kill me. But you specified cannibals.”
Predatory amusement glinted in his amber eyes. “Why don’t you beg me again, Majesty? Maybe you’ll get another answer.” He tilted his head. “But this time I’d like to see you on your knees.”
I stiffened, throat closing up. My queen wouldn’t have begged the first time. She certainly wouldn’t lower herself to her knees before a Kald—before anyone.
“No? Don’t feel like flashing those big doe eyes of yours today?” He shrugged and leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, cloaking me in the smell of mulberries. The scent niggled at a memory. Something blurry, just out of reach.
“Here’s another question,” he mused, as if we were talking about the weather.
“Why did the Gods-Chosen, Queen of Ashorah, daughter of Shaya, and infamous pain in the ass bother begging a Kald at all? Just to know what was waiting for you here? I would’ve thought it would take a lot more to break you. ”
I had to fight not to flinch at that. I wasn’t sure why it came as such a shock. I would be hard-pressed to find a single slave in Khada Palace who wasn’t broken. And yet when Keir said it, it hit me like a punch to the chest.
But quickly following that was fear. That he would find me out. That between my decision not to run and my complete lack of pride, he would realize I wasn’t Queen Amunet. Keir was unpleasant, unhinged, but not unintelligent.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and said, “Maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear about me.”
“Right. And what is it you call us? The cannibals in the north?” He scoffed and straightened away from the door, mercifully offering me a bit of space. “Rade will call for you when he’s ready.”
I blinked, glancing over his shoulder at the longhouse. I would have thought the Kaldfolk king would have been rushing to speak with the Gods-Chosen. But I supposed I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon…
My eyes trailed back to Keir. “You’re going to stand here the whole time?”
“Thinking of running again, are you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I just… Won’t you be bored?”
“Why?” His grin spread, making his yellow eyes gleam wickedly as he leaned forward again. “Are you volunteering to entertain me?”
Ice flooded my veins. “No.”
He leaned even closer, until I could feel his supernatural body heat. “Because there are a few things I’d like to do to a Khada—”
I put my hand to his chest and pushed.
Keir glanced from my face to my hand, laughably small in the center of his barrel chest, and I could practically read his thoughts in his face. My pathetic show of resistance would mean nothing if he decided to do—whatever he was thinking of doing.
A low chuckle rumbled out of him. “Some fight at last. I was beginning to think we took the wrong queen.”
My stomach dipped. Such an innocent sentence, and yet it filled me with dread.
Keir studied me a beat longer, but I couldn’t decipher his look. If he was going to push his way into my cabin anyway or if he’d scented my reaction to his words and I’d already failed my queen—
A shout went up from the longhouse. I jerked my head toward it. “What was that?”
“Not your concern.”
Before I could question him more, Dalla came rushing up to him. “Keir, you should come.”
“Can’t,” he responded, hooking a thumb my way. “Babysitting.”
Dalla’s flinty eyes moved to me for only a second before she said, “It’s Hedin.”
Keir swore. “Bain knows?”
“You could say that.” She looked purposefully toward the longhouse as people started rushing inside, their faces twisted in anger. It looked like a mob was flowing into the large cabin.
“Fine,” Keir said. “You stay with the queen. I’ll try to—”
“Oh, no.” Dalla was already backing away with a grin, the expression unsettling on her severe face. “I’m not missing this.”
“Dalla!”
Her laugh echoed as she turned and ran back to the longhouse.
Keir swore again, much more colorfully. Then he took my arm and pulled me out of my cabin.
I might have been curious about the shouting, but now that Keir was taking me there, it was the last place I wanted to go. Dragging my feet, I asked, “What are you doing?”
“I can’t leave you unguarded,” he answered. “Don’t worry, Majesty, you’ll enjoy this.”