Silken Rapture (Princes of the Underground 2)
“If I can’t stay away from her, then I must leave Sanctuary, mustn’t I?”
“What if I told you that I will remove the wards of magic that protect Sanctuary if you go to Delraven? Isabel and the Literati will have no protection against Morshiel and the Scourge.”
Blaise froze, stunned. “You would do that, just to spite me?”
“I have no use or time for spite,” Usan said, his voice suddenly ringing with power, his countenance that of a different creature. “If it came to protection between you and Isabel, I might choose her. Do you mock me for that?”
“No,” Blaise replied quickly. He was still angry, but his curiosity was mounting. Usan was behaving strangely, even for him. “I would choose the same. But because I would have you protect her before me does not equate to you automatically agreeing. You have never granted my wishes in the past so readily. Why would you now? Why do you care what happens to Isabel?”
“You know what she is. Does it surprise you?”
“No,” Blaise growled before he began pacing again. He suddenly knew for a fact that whatever secret Saint held involved the mystery of what was happening between Isabel and him.
“Is Saint being prevented from speaking to the rest of the princes about how he conquered Teslar?”
“Yes.”
Blaise blinked, surprised by Usan’s quick, forthright answer. “Why?” he demanded.
“Kavya has forbidden him to speak openly to the rest of you, upon the request of the rest of the Magian council.”
“You make it your sole duty to vex me, Old Man.”
Usan looked politely interested. “You know, I’ve never heard it put quite so succinctly. To vex, to agitate, to prod—”
Blaise made a sound of profound frustration, causing Usan to blink and rise from his intellectual musings.
“You will thank me someday for it, Blaise.”
Blaise bared his teeth.
Usan sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He pinned Blaise with his eerily focused stare.
“Perhaps today is the day,” he said thoughtfully. He seemed to come to a decision and smiled. “All right. You crave a truth? I will give you one. Isabel is pregnant. She is going to have a child.”
His ears rang in the silence that followed. For a moment, he thought Usan had used his magic to conjure an invisible hand to wrap around his throat.
“Isabel is pregnant?” he said after he’d managed to suck in a thin stream of air.
“That’s right.”
“You…you are certain of it?”
“One hundred percent certain, yes. She’s only a few weeks along, but trust me. We alchemists know two things very, very well—genes and vitessence. Isabel is going to have a baby,” Usan said with a satisfied smile as he arranged his robes in his lap.
Blaise turned toward the fire, seeing nothing, impervious to the heat on his skin. A few weeks along? Had she taken a lover while she was in London? A thought struck him and he made a choking sound of rising horror. He reached for the mantel to steady himself. The Literati, the Scourge, Morshiel and himself were all sterile. If Isabel was pregnant, then—
“One of Morshiel’s drudges,” he said in a choked voice. “Those fucking humans who follow him in exchange for drugs and Morshiel’s leavings. One of them must have raped Isabel on the night Morshiel kidnapped her—”
Usan made an exasperated sound behind him. “Today is not the day, then,” he said under his breath, sounding a little weary.
“Today is not the day for what?” Blaise roared, spinning around. “Stop speaking in riddles. If you know the details of Isabel’s pregnancy, tell me. I won’t tell her if the truth would upset her, but I want to know.”
“You want the truth?” Usan asked, his tone suddenly just as commanding as Blaise’s. He stood. “You are the father, Blaise. You are.”
He blinked and flinched back as though Usan had just struck him. “I am? Don’t be ridiculous. You said—”
“That you were sterile, yes I know. But haven’t I also taught you that one of the glories of nature is that it never stays the same? Change is the only constant in the universe.”