Page 74 of The Inadequate Heir (The Bridge Kingdom 3)

40

ZARRAH

All the luxury in the world wouldn’t make up for the fact the room had bars on the window and a bolt on the door.

It was a prison.

And it wasn’t lost on Zarrah that it wasn’t a prison intended for individuals such as herself, but rather for wives of the King of Maridrina. Likely girls who were reticent about being wed to an aging monster who’d treat them like broodmares. The very thought of it made her sick, and she added them to the list of people who’d see vengeance when Silas fell to her blade.

A cold voice from behind her interrupted Zarrah’s thoughts. “Allow me to make myself very clear,Zarrah: this is my house. You will dress in the clothes I provide. Conduct yourself in a manner I find fitting. Speak only to those who speak to you first. And you will never lay so much as a finger on a single member of this household.”

Turning, Zarrah found the wife called Coralyn standing behind her, flanked by two guards. Perhaps in her mid-sixties, the woman was stately in her gown of amber brocade, her hair perfectly coifed, and the jewels on her fingers, wrists, ears, and throat worth enough to purchase one of the more costly homes in Vencia.

“If you cross me on any of these things, I’ll have you killed, and I don’t care what Silas or Keris has to say about it. Am I understood?”

A hundred quips rose in Zarrah’s thoughts, the foremost beingI could kill you before those two fools moved, you old Maridrinian hag,but instead she gave the slightest of nods. If pandering to a harem wife was what it would take, then pander she would.

“Not only are you Valcottan and a member of the Valcottan royal family, but you are a soldier responsible for the death of at least one of our sons by your own hand. And indirectly the cause of the death of many more. You may anticipate courtesy from the women of my household, but do not expect kindness. Am I understood?”

“I understand and will abide.” Right up to the point she put a knife in Silas Veliant’s heart.

“Good.” Coralyn snapped her fingers, and servants moved into the room carrying a bath, several others on their heels. “Measure her for gowns. She’s a princess of sorts, so she is to be dressed accordingly. I’ve a reputation to uphold, and I won’t have her returning to Valcotta to spread rumors that the Veliant house is cheap.”

Then she approached, caught hold of Zarrah’s wrists, and untied the ropes.

“Lady Coralyn,” one of the guards said, his eyes widening with distress. “Are you certain this is advisable? She’s a killer.”

“So am I.” Coralyn looked up to meet Zarrah’s gaze. “And I can see in your eyes that you’ve a brain between your ears. You won’t cross me, will you, dear?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lady Coralyn.”

The old woman patted her cheek. “Good girl. You can dine in here alone once you are bathed. I’m certain, after the journey from Nerastis, that you’re desperate for privacy and silence. God knows, Keris does like the sound of his own voice.” Yet as she turned, she told the guard, “Keep the door locked and under guard at all times.”

Zarrah allowed the seamstresses to measure her without comment, trying not to stare longingly at the bath as the servants filled it with steaming water and set a tray of salts and soaps and scrubs to one side of it. As soon as the seamstresses departed with their notes, she stripped off her filthy garments and stepped into the steaming water, wincing as she looked down. The poison had leached her strength, eating away at both muscle and curve, and she looked as weak as she felt. It disgusted her, so she sank under the water, all sound turning muffled.

God, how long had it been since she’d had a proper bath? Not since before she’d met Keris on the dam that fateful night. Not since he’d had her in every possible way, and she him. Beneath the water and with her eyes closed, memories of that night drifted over her. Of how he’d devoured her with a look. How he’d made her feel more powerful and alive than she had in years, if ever. How it had felt to be joined with him, not just in flesh but in thought.

That was the Maridrinian.Not Keris Veliant.

She wasn’t certain if it was because of the act he played that she couldn’t reconcile the two or that she subconsciously didn’t want to. Didn’t want the man she’d fallen for to be the same man as the one she reviled in every possible way. And it drove her to madness that in one moment, her gut told her he was on her side, and in the next, that all his words were a manipulation intended to achieve his own ends.

It doesn’t matter,she told herself.If he realizes your intent, he’ll try to stop you. Because as much as Keris seemed to hate Silas, the man was still his father.

And yet… Zarrah’s hair drifted in the water, brushing against her cheeks, her eyes still closed as she remembered how he’d spoken of Silas.My father is an unrepentant prick the world would be better off without.His words whispered through her thoughts, tempting her. Making herwantto trust him.

The need to breathe grew too intense to be denied, and Zarrah sat upright in the bath, gasping in a mouthful of air and ignoring the alarmed looks of the pair of servant women. Resting her chin on her knees, she squeezed her eyes shut.The words were the bluster of a man pretending to be something he is not, she thought.If he meant them, he’d have taken action long ago.

“Something to drink, my lady?” one of the servants asked, holding out a glass of wine. Zarrah accepted it, suddenly feeling more exhausted than she had since she’d been on her deathbed.

The man you fell for isn’t real, but Keris Veliant is,she told herself.He was a fabrication. An act. A pretense. Which means you didn’t fall for him at all.

Or so she would keep telling herself.

41

KERIS

Valcotta was being exceptionally agreeable.

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