Serpent's Claim (Serpent's Touch 2)

Lord Adriyel studied my face for a moment. “Do you feel sorry for him? If so, you don’t need to. King Zeldren has led a long and brutal life bathed in blood. Maybe looking death in the eye now has calmed him down, but make no mistakes, my dear. Had he not been crippled by mortal drought, you would’ve become just another casualty of his by now.”

I couldn’t argue with that. The king was cantankerous and grumpy at times, but from the glimpses of his true nature I got, I believed he’d been much worse when he was younger.

“Is that why you gifted me to him?” I asked. “To watch him destroy me?”

His lips stretched into a predatory smirk. “If I wanted you destroyed, little human, I could’ve done that myself.” He shook his head. “You’re too precious for deliberate destruction. I brought you to him to ease the sufferings of a dying man, nothing more, and it seems to be working.” He leaned my way, the focus in his eyes sharpened. “You are relieving his sufferings, are you not?”

Judging by his tone and expression, he was suggesting the “relief” I provided to the king was sexual in nature. He stared at me, waiting, only I didn’t know what for. Did he expect me to tell him all about the sex I was supposedly having with the king? Or did he want me to reassure him the king hadn’t touched me?

I said nothing, moving my attention back to the picture. I hoped he’d leave, but he remained standing next to me.

“Do you know that King Zeldren impaled one of his lovers for betraying him?” Lord Adriyel said unexpectedly. “He then placed her in the Garden of the Cursed and left her to rot to death among the promise breakers, even though she had given him no promises and therefore didn’t break any.”

I snapped my gaze back at him in shock. “That is so…”

“Horrible?” He brought his hands together. “Yes, it is. He married another one off to a lower lord in Sarnala when he found out she was pregnant with his royal child. The poor girl had her eyes gouged out and her senties cut off before the werewolf lord even agreed to marry her. Her baby was murdered the moment she delivered it—so fearful were the werewolves of the look of its gorgonian eyes.”

I listened in horror, my clasped hands pressed to my chest.

“But why would the king let it happen to his own child? Aren’t pregnancies rare among fae? And aren’t all babies precious?”

He inclined his head. “They are. So much so that even bastard children are usually taken into palaces and raised alongside legitimate heirs. There are plenty of examples where the bastards succeeded their parents in inheriting the title when no legitimate children were born.”

“Why didn’t King Zeldren keep his child, then?”

His jaw ticked, and his senties twitched but settled down again quickly.

“Because King Zeldren believes no one is worthy of his crown,” he said with force. He drew in a long breath before fully regaining his composure. “The king has searched for his bonded mate for centuries but never found her, which happens quite often. Bonds are rare, even more rare than babies.”

That I knew. Finding a true mate seemed like winning a lottery—everyone wished for it, but only the lucky few had it happen to them.

Lord Adriyel’s stare grew more intense. His eyes heated, the silver in them appearing to melt.

“Bonds are rare,” he murmured. “But not nearly as rare as humans.”

He slid the back of his fingers down one of my braids that had fallen over my shoulder. He followed its curve over my breast.

I took a step back, evading his touch. “Why didn’t the king marry someone else when he failed to find his bonded mate? Most marriages aren’t bonded, anyway, are they?”

“Because no one but a true mate is worthy of our great King Zeldren,” he replied with heavy sarcasm. “He would not pass his crown to a bastard child. Yet he would never marry to sire a legitimate one.” He inhaled deeply. “So, here we are now. With a king about to leave this world, and no one to succeed him.”

“What will happen then, when the king is no longer here?”

He spread his arms, palms open. “A tournament if we’re lucky. A war if we follow in King Zeldren’s steps.”

“Was that how he became a king?”

He nodded in affirmation. “He stabbed the rightful king with his iron sword.” He turned to the picture again. “During the Battle of Two Rivers.”

“Oh…” I stared again at the image of the wounded man who hopelessly fought the churning waters, arrow in his neck, his senties up and rigid in fear, the mortal wound from the sword hidden from view. The weapon that inflicted it must be the one I saw hanging over King Zeldren’s nest.

“You seem upset,” Lord Adriyel said, looking at me instead of the picture. “But isn’t it always better to know the truth, no matter how comforting the lies may feel?”

Things weren’t always what they seemed; I’d learned that long ago. But did I want to learn the whole cruel, bloody history of this place to discover the truth?

The more I knew about this world and its people, the better I might understand it. Kyllen was no longer here to create a position in this world for me. I had to find my place on my own.

“Where can I read more about this?” I asked Lord Adriyel.

He arched a graceful eyebrow ridge. “You want to read?”

“I’m new to Lorsan. I have a lot to learn. Where can I find more information? Is there such a place?”

A smile graced his shapely mouth once again. “There is. As a matter of fact, it’s closer than you may think. Right between the roots of this tree lie our Royal Archives.”

Archives.

Kyllen had just spoken about that place, too, in my vision.

“If you’re not in a hurry, I can show you the way right now.” Lord Adriyel offered me his arm.

“Well, I…” I glanced at the massive mechanical clock that occupied the entire wall above the first landing of the grand staircase.