Page 475 of Kingdoms of Night

Sickened by the conflicting thoughts, I retreated to the bathroom to wash my face. It was just as spacious yet sparse as the room, with a luxurious tub, a wall-spanning mirror above a clamshell sink, and an ivory toilet fit for a king.

Whether it was the lighting or the mirror itself, my reflection was off-putting. My long, black, coiling curls were equal parts limp and frizzy, and my beige skin had a sallow quality to it, darkening the circles under my eyes to bruises. ‘Dark and long’ could best describe my eyes and their thick brows; the shape and distance between them created a resting expression of displeasure. The proof lay in how Maia shared my heart-shaped face and my full, narrow, mouth but was seen as far more comely.

I thoroughly washed my face with cold water to banish the sinking mood. When I rose to reach for a towel, I caught a second reflection hovering behind my own.

CHAPTERFOUR

The dagger clumsily slipped out of my grip as I spun into a defensive stance.

Bent over, I froze when I faced the source of my scare.

A young woman around my age stood hunched back with a silver tray in her hands, her dark hair in big waves that framed her round face, whose downturned eyes bulged with shock as her flat chest pumped with worried breaths.

She was slimmer than me, smaller even, and around two shades darker, coming off as a light brown in this sallow light rather than my own yellow-beige. Most importantly, she washuman.

I straightened, tucking the weapon back into place. “Who are you? Are you a prisoner here?”

Out of her startled daze, she beamed at me, smile lighting a glimmer in her large, honey eyes. “Oh, um, hello. And no, not quite.”

She set the tray on the table by the door and wiped her hands down on her bronze-lined sky-blue gown before reaching for me. “I’m Suzianna. I’m here to tend to you.”

Scrutinizing her brought no further answers. No signs of an enchanted jewelry was rendering her subservient—or in a disguise I’d find approachable.

Concern flowed through me, washing out the suspicion as I bypassed her hands to grip her upper arms. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Are you?” Suzianna laughed nervously, glancing at the sleeve that bore my blade. “Does he know you have that?”

I patted around for any signs of damage, any chains of even the edges of whipping scars beneath the neckline of her gown. “He’ll know when he finds it in his back!”

She retreated with a ticklish squeak, reminding me of Maia. Our mother used to love chasing us to our beds with wiggling fingertips. I had proven far number than my sister, but giggled all the same at the nightly pursuit. After she had been torn away from us, I attempted to maintain her essence. But not much could be recreated aside from stealing lighthearted moments scraped up by tickling under Maia’s chin or her sides when I couldn’t bear sadness weighing down the lines of her face.

Oh, Maia. Our bastard father must have discovered her by now.

Suzianna side-stepped around me to reach her tray. She poured two cupfuls from a long-necked bronze dallah and offered me a small, gilded, porcelain finjan. It was like the sets brought by the palace servants whenever members of the royal family visited Eleil. “I hope you aren’t serious.”

“Why? Is he invulnerable?” I sniffed my cup, the liquid thick and golden, smelling of saffron and cardamom. “He must have a weakness. Many greater gods do.”

“May I ask why you want to kill your husband? I’m familiar with the sentiment, but usually it crops up after a few years,” she joked, nervousness maintained.

Was she not aware of what was happening back home? “How long have you been here?”

Suzianna glanced behind us at the seawater morning pouring through the balcony doors. “It’s hard to tell. Time here moves differently.” Returning to me, she hummed, lips pursed with deep thought. “Given that you’re Number Seven, I would say a little over three years.”

“Number Seven. You’ve met the other brides?”

“Only those that came after me.” Suzianna downed her cupful in a gulp and raised it to me. “I was wife Number Three.”

I couldn’t help gaping at her complete ease with this fact. “If you’re still alive, what am I doing here then?”

She paused, pouring a second cup, round eyes bulging. “Do people think I’m dead?”

“They think we all are!” I couldn’t help yelling. “He takes a new bride every year and we don’t know why! What else are people meant to think?”

“Ah, when you put it that way.” She sipped loudly, avoiding my gaze. “Well, I can tell you Numbers Four, Five and Six aren’t dead.”

“What about One and Two?”

The pained face she pulled was enough of an answer. “Baltasar says they didn’t handle their fate too well. I can’t blame them. When I first sawhim,I wet myself and collapsed with fear.” She shuddered. “I still can’t be in a room alone with him.”

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