Samir almost laughed. He envied his mother’s ability to talk about killing someone in such nonchalant terms.
“I refuse to believe that killing a person is the only option,” he said firmly.
Dalatteya sighed. They walked in silence for a while.
“There’s another option, I suppose,” she said at last. “You could use his attraction to you to make him abdicate.”
Samir did laugh this time. “Please—it’s never going to happen. No one would give up their kingdom for the sake of lust, Mother.”
Giving him a flat look, Dalatteya said, “Do I need to hire another history teacher for you? How many wars have been fought because of men’s lust? The Great War was one, among others.”
Samir flushed. His mother did have a point. “Fine, you’re right. But I’m not convinced that he wants me at all.”
“Trust me, he does. I know men. I know men of that family in particular. His attraction to you might be superficial, but nothing stirs a man’s cock as much as the desire to have something he’s told he can’t have. Admit it, I’m right.”
“Mother,” Samir said with a pinched look, torn between laughing and being scandalized.
But when he looked at Dalatteya’s face, all his amusement was gone. Her expression was strange: faraway and unamused, her blue eyes dark with an emotion he couldn’t read.
“He only got more lustful when I told him that he couldn’t have me,” she said, almost absently. “The more I said no, the more it inflamed his desire. Men of that family are unhealthily obsessive, Samir. If Warrehn is anything like his father, the fact that I told him that he can’t have you will only make him more attracted to you.”
Samir looked at her carefully, hesitating. “Mother… May I ask you something? About your relationship with the late king?”
Dalatteya tensed up but nodded stiffly after a moment.
“Why didn’t you follow your plan yourself? Expose him as an assaulter—as a rapist? Not even a king is above the law.”
His mother looked away, her beautiful profile betraying no emotion. She stopped in front of a gorgeous violet flower and touched its petals with her graceful, delicate fingers. “Emyr had these planted because of me, you know. He said some nonsense about them matching my hair.” Her lips pursed tightly. “I should have burned them years ago.”
Samir stared at her, disturbed by her refusal—or inability—to give a straight answer. “You hated him, right?”
“Of course I did.” Her throat moved. “I still do. I just… He was the thing poisoning my life and my thoughts for decades. He was the first thing I thought about in the morning for years and it’s hard to train myself out of the habit. He’s gone. I’m free. I’m happy. Thrilled.” She tore a petal off the flower, and then another, before crushing them in her fist. “I will not allow his son to ruin the life I’ve built for myself. I won’t. That would mean he won. I can’t allow that.”
Fuck. Warrehn was right: his mother really was obsessed with a dead man.
Samir looked away, deeply uncomfortable and unsure what to think. King Emyr had been dead for two decades, for heaven’s sake. Why couldn’t his mother move on?
“Regardless,” Dalatteya said suddenly, with a nonchalance that seemed a little too studied to be natural. “Let’s return to the subject at hand. If Warrehn is anything like his father, his lustful, obsessive nature will be his weakness. Make him obsessed with you and talk him into abdicating—or I’ll be taking other measures. Frankly, I prefer the latter option, but if you’re so squeamish, fine, I shall give you some time to resolve the issue another way.”
Samir nearly laughed. That was a choice between a very bad option and a terrible one. His mother was impossible. But he knew she was dead serious. She wouldn’t allow Emyr’s son to take away what she saw as hers. It wasn’t about Samir or even Warrehn; it was his mother’s vendetta against a dead man. A dead man she clearly had very complex feelings for.
“I thought you didn’t want him to lay a finger on me,” Samir said dryly.
“I don’t,” Dalatteya said, grimacing. “But you don’t have to do much with him to accomplish the goal. He’s lonely, all by himself in a hostile place. It shouldn’t be too difficult to make him fixate on you if you play your cards right, with the way he looks at you already.”
Sighing, Samir rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I still think you’re vastly overestimating my appeal.”
His mother gave him an unimpressed look. “Don’t be ridiculous. The only man on the planet who can rival you in appearance is Prince Jamil—and perhaps his younger brother. Warrehn would have to be dead not to find you appealing. Think about it.”
And with that, she left.
Chapter 4
Turned out it was difficult to seduce someone who was actively avoiding you. Or at least it felt like Warrehn was avoiding him. Over the next week, Samir barely saw Warrehn. When Warrehn wasn’t accepting calls from politicians and his lord-vassals, he was busy running the country, having relieved Samir and Dalatteya of their duties.