Chapter Eight
“Basileia, it’s me.”
Where was I? I felt completely disoriented.
“You were having a nightmare.”
Zain. His voice was calm, soothing. I released my grip and let the knife drop. “Did I cut you?” I asked, my voice rough with sleep.
“No.”
Dagger licked the side of my face, his foul breath making me want to gag. Zain nudged his dog aside.
“What happened?” he asked me. “You were screaming.”
The explanation unintentionally fell out of my mouth. I had never told anyone about my recurring nightmare, but I found myself sharing every horrible detail, reliving it even though I was awake.
He didn’t say anything, he just listened. It made no sense that I would confide in him. He was a liar and a thief. But his reaction felt sincere—as if he was worried about me.
“It was the first time I didn’t enjoy fighting. I didn’t mark the lives I had taken.” The lives I hadn’t saved prevented me from doing so.
“Had you ever seen innocents die like that before?”
I shook my head. All my fights had taken place on battlefields.
It was always warrior against warrior. I’d never had to watch noncombatant women and innocent children die.
“I should have done something. I have replayed that moment in my head so many times, thinking of all the things I would do differently if I got the chance to do it again.” I would ignore Thrax. I would save those people.
And if I died in the process? As far as I was concerned, that would be the best possible way to die. Protecting those who could not protect themselves.
“Your brother was right. You would have died. I’m glad you didn’t.”
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
“I know some and I hope to know more.”
Nothing this man did made any sense to me. “Why are you being like this?”
He straightened up. “Have you never been wooed before, illora?”
“I—” Thracian men did not flirt. They didn’t use their words to coax or woo. They propositioned me, I said either yes or no, and they accepted my answer. “We just met.”
“The meeting is what lets you know if you find a person attractive or not. And just as I find you intriguing, you are attracted to me as well.”
I sat straight up in my cot, ready to protest, but he didn’t give me the chance.
“Don’t bother denying it. I can see it. Hear it. Feel it. You have your reasons for resisting and that’s fine. I won’t press you.”
Why did I feel both relieved and disappointed?
“Is that why you wanted to share a room with me?” Was this all just a ploy?
“The two things can be true—I find you attractive, and I would prefer you share a room with a man who will respect your wishes as opposed to one who would not.”
He thought he was protecting me. Which was unnecessary, but still sweet. “Why would you want to woo me?”
“Many reasons. You’re a mixture of contradictions and I want to know more. That, and you’re incredibly beautiful.”
That was twice now that he’d said it, and having never received that kind of compliment before, I wasn’t even sure how to respond.
“If you want me to stop or I make you uncomfortable, you have only to say the word and I will.”
Of course I wanted him to stop. This was ridiculous. I wasn’t here for some fleeting romance. I was here to find a way to change my mother’s mind so that I could take over for her.
But the words didn’t come out. I didn’t say anything. I just sat there.
Feeling many different shades of foolish.
And that feeling wasn’t helped when he grinned knowingly at me. “We’ll talk more about it later. I get the sense you’re not ready for a full-frontal assault.” He walked over and picked something up off the trunk. “Here. I got this for you.”
It was blue, shimmering fabric. He held it out to me and I realized it was a dress.
A cobalt-blue silk dress. I brushed my fingers against it. “Did you steal it or pay for it?”
“Does it matter? You needed a dress and now you have one.”
“Yes, it matters.”
But he didn’t respond. He didn’t have to.
He had given me the dress and I was stroking the fabric.
So soft and luxurious. He had trapped me the moment he put it in my hands.
I really did need a dress, and it would only be for one night.
I’d make him return it tomorrow, which would ease my guilty conscience. “This feels expensive.”
“Silk is how Sagaris got wealthy. Centuries ago someone stole silkworms from Serica and now they have all this. Even the poorest members of this city wear silk. Which means you won’t stand out at the celebration.”
I should have told him to put it back where he found it. Especially because I was certain it wouldn’t fit. I stood up and held the dress against me. My mouth dropped when the hem hit the floor. “How did you find one long enough?”
“I’m very, very good at what I do,” he said.
I wanted to try it on. “Turn around. I’m going to change.”
“As you wish.”
“Dagger, make sure he’s behaving,” I said. Dagger promptly turned toward the door and barked at a wall.
I undid my belt, my tunic going loose. I could feel his gaze on me. “Are you watching me?”
“No.”
“Yes, you are.”
When I whirled around, Zain was lying on the bed, his hands behind his head. “If you knew I was watching you, why would you ask?”
“To see if you were capable of telling the truth.”
“I’m capable of it. I just don’t see the point.”
“The point,” I said, “is to be a trustworthy person. You can’t be trusted.”
He shrugged. “The right person could trust me.”
“I don’t understand you. My word is my bond. And your word is meaningless.”
“Not all my words.” Then he let out a playful sigh. “I’ll leave if I must.”
“You must.”
He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he got up. I flattened myself against the back wall so that he could pass by. When he opened the door, he gave me one last lingering look and then let himself out.
I bolted the door behind him. I quickly shed my clothes and slid the dress on and nearly moaned. The way it felt against my body—the slide of the material was sensuous and delightful.
It also fit perfectly. As if it had been made specifically for me.
What will Zain think when he sees me in this?
I let out a sigh of disgust. What was happening to me?
I was twenty and three years old. Not some naive maiden. I was far past the age where I should be reacting this way to a man. It made me feel out of control.
Maybe the problem was that I had gone too long without a man in my bed. I should fix that at the first opportunity.
Just not with Zain.
He would be dangerous in that regard.
If a different man were saying and doing these things, I would have gutted him a long time ago. Why didn’t it bother me when Zain did them?
This had become personal. I did not lose control, and I was not about to start for some charm and a handsome face. I would win this inner battle, withstand the temptation. I would do well in this tournament and he would not distract me from my win.
Sleep deprivation was a torture method for a reason. That explained it. I hadn’t slept well for days and I was sleep deprived. Once I was able to get a full night’s rest, I would be myself again.
That would solve everything.
I reluctantly changed back into my tunic. I needed a bath. I opened the door and expected to see Zain lounging against a wall, but he wasn’t there. I began walking down the hallway and heard the men laughing and splashing in the baths. That didn’t seem a particularly safe place for me to go.
Especially since I didn’t know what the rules of the tournament were for killing a fellow competitor because they groped you. I wouldn’t want to get kicked out.
So I went back to the only place I had seen women—the laundry. The workers had all left for the day and I investigated until I found a washroom I could use to bathe. I didn’t have time to heat the water, so it would have to be cold. My baths usually were.
But when I turned the faucet, hot water came streaming out. How was this accomplished? Magic?
I didn’t care. I squeezed into the tub, barely fitting. I scrubbed my body and my hair as best I could and rinsed off. I got out and dried myself, combing out my hair. Not wanting the damp tendrils to ruin the dress, I put it up in a messy braid, winding it around my head and pinning it into place.
It was then that I put the dress on and sighed with how wonderful it felt. I wondered what time it was—I didn’t know how long I’d been in here or when the party was supposed to start.
When I reached my room, I opened the door expecting to only see Dagger. But Zain was waiting for me.
His midnight-colored hair was still damp at the ends, curling slightly. He again had on a dark red tunic, but this one was made of silk. His whole face lit up when he saw me, and my heart stuttered.
He slowly stood, taking me in. “Illora, you look like a goddess come to life.”
Was I blushing? I didn’t know how to take this flirtation. It was on the tip of my tongue to return the compliment because he looked breathtakingly handsome.
Instead I opted for what felt safe. “You seem to really like wearing dark red.”
“Hides the blood.”
“Yours or someone else’s?”
“Both,” he said with a wink. “Shall we go?”
We went out into the hallway. He seemed to know where he was headed and I followed.
“I would have draped you in jewels, but I got the distinct feeling you might object to the method through which I would obtain them,” he said. “But it’s fine that I didn’t because you don’t need them.”
I was grateful that the hallway was darkened, lit only by torch. Having such fair skin made blushing obvious.
When was the last time before meeting him that I had blushed? I couldn’t remember and felt foolish that I kept doing it now.
We walked in silence for nearly the entire length of the hallway before he asked, “Did you enjoy your bath?”
That felt like safer territory. “I did. How do they heat their water?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I could investigate and find out.”
He didn’t need to go to that kind of effort. “You don’t have to. Honestly, I don’t care that much.”
“That’s why I can’t pique your interest. You don’t always need answers.”
That was true. Not everything in life needed to be examined and understood. Obviously I still asked questions and was curious about things, but it wasn’t a burning feeling where I absolutely had to know. “No, I don’t.”
He made a soft humming sound and looked as if he was absorbing this information. We continued our quiet walk but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I found that I enjoyed just being near him.
Music and voices got louder and louder as we approached the celebration. When we reached the doors, he turned to me and said, “My apologies, but you are not going to blend in. I would guess that you always stand out wherever you go.”
It was true—I was taller than most men, stronger, too, and had flaming red hair. I never faded into the background.
He opened the doors and I put a hand over my stomach, completely in awe of what I was seeing.