A Fate of Wrath & Flame (Fate & Flame 1)

I peel my eyes away from his body to absorb what he’s insinuating. “Are you saying they slept together? That I”—I point at my body, because it’s this body I’ve inhabited that has done so many unspeakable things—“slept with your brother?” I feel the blood draining from my face. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I doubt that reaction would swell his ego.” Zander’s shoulders sink. “I apologize. This was my anger speaking. You shouldn’t have found out this way. Or at all.”

“No, I should have. Sooner, probably.” I glare at him. “If we were together, he’s likely the one who would want you dead.” A thought strikes me. “If you died, who would rule?”

“Atticus,” he admits. “And I might have believed that theory, if his tributary was not also dosed with this deliquesced merth intended for him. And one of your men shot him with a deadly arrow. But no, I do not believe Atticus conspired against me, especially if it meant slaughtering his entire family. He may want to be king, but he would not want to wear a crown drenched in blood. He has too much honor and too much love for Islor.” His attention skates over my lavender dress. “He simply couldn’t resist taking something that was mine.”

Princess Romeria’s virginity, apparently. I don’t know how much honor there is in that.

“Does he know that you know?”

“I don’t believe so, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Of course,” I mutter.

He disappears into the bathing room, leaving me with my hands pressed against my mouth to keep my scream from escaping. This place and its goddamn web of lies and secrets! And after today, I am quickly being pulled into its treacherous weave.

The running water cuts off, and I listen to the clank of a buckle, the rustling of boots being kicked off and pants being shed, and a moment later, a body sliding into water.

Despite the swirl of shock that grips me, a heady tension stirs in my lower belly at the mental image those sounds conjure.

“I don’t have much time. Abarrane is likely cursing me. What did you need to tell me in private, Romeria?”

He’s left the bathing room door wide open. Is that an invitation after last night, or merely efficiency? Or is he testing me? He admitted that he is—always.

At least I have a reason to keep my distance, which makes it harder to read the guilt and panic settled firmly on my shoulders now that I know what I am. “Bexley found me in the market. Kaders left out some details.”

There’s a long pause. “Can we not talk through a wall? Please come in here.”

There goes my strategy.

With several deep, calming breaths, I round the corner and step into Zander’s windowless bathing room—a mirror of mine, other than the black stone tub where mine is copper. It’s illuminated with a dozen flickering candles, no doubt lit with a single thought from him.

Zander rests his head on the back of one end and stares up at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple jutting, his powerful torso on display, the rest of his body hidden below the surface of the water, too dark to catch even a glimpse.

My mouth goes dry. He may be the most desirable creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. And in this case, it’s an advantage, and possibly my saving grace.

Steam coats my skin as I ease in to take a seat in the chair next to the tub. I let myself admire him. I don’t take calming breaths or force my thoughts elsewhere. I stare and think of the feel of him in the alleyway last night for those brief moments until my blood thrums in my veins and my body hums with anticipation of it happening again.

Maybe this is another one of his tests, but if it is, I’ll win it on my own terms.

His head rolls to the side to regard me.

“Do you normally have an audience when you bathe?” I ask.

“If there is a female in my bathing chamber, she is not sitting in a chair beside me.” He smirks. “What did Kaders forget to mention last night?”

“That there was also a seer on his ship.”

The amusement slides off Zander’s face. “A seer. Here in Cirilea?”

“Yes. She was traveling with the elemental. They climbed into a wagon and disappeared.”

A flurry of thoughts fly through his gaze. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to speak to one.”

“It’s confusing, sometimes disturbing.” I rush to add, “That’s what Wendeline told me. We stopped by the sanctum on the way back.” But I also know firsthand, another stunning truth I need time to process.

“Did you tell Wendeline what Bexley told you?”