Page 141 of City of Snakes
VI. Shortsighted
VII. Willful
VIII. Not ready
My blood flashed cold. The handwriting was familiar—I recognized it from the letter Krait had written me when he’d tried sending me away.
I should have left then.
He’d been keeping a tally of my faults. A night of passion and softness would not change the things he thought of me that were inked on this page.
The guillotine dropped.
Instead of my head rolling, my heart split in two.
Krait shifted but didn’t wake. Swallowing hard, I made no sound as I stepped to the foot of the bed and dropped the parchment down at his feet. To think I’d been contemplating opening myself up to him, building a life with him, letting myself fall. My tongue felt two sizes too big, and heat pressed on the back of my eyes.
Krait had been clear all along that he didn’t see love or affection as necessary for us to have an heir, but the sting of seeing all my written defects hurt no less.
Especially that final entry.
Not ready.
I was not prepared to take on Death, not ready to marry, not ready to be a mother, not ready to love. It didn’t hurt that he’d written the list; it hurt that it was all true. There was no use even waking him to be angry—he wasn’t the realm’s biggest fool. I was.
Slipping on a pair of leather mules, I left the bedchamber. I needed to find Elsedora. While she would never speak ill of her King, she would at least be a welcome distraction. And was likely to have wine.
Knocking would have been wise.
In a flurry of emotion, I’d entered Elsedora’s bedchamber only to be met with the sight of averywell-sculpted pale ass, tensed and driving. Ryn held Elsedora’s ankles over his shoulders, and their sounds could only be described as animalistic.
Squeaking, I stumbled back, closing the door, before shielding my eyes and fumbling for the handle. Once out of there, I slammed the door. Holding one hand to my forehead.
At least that shock had staved off the tears that had swelled in my eyes for a brief moment. My feet were stuck to the spot. I did not know where to go next. Every instinct screamed—the Egress. Go home.
There was loud shuffling and an “Ouch, Ryn!” before the door creaked open. Elsedora stepped out with a silk robe haphazardly pulled around herself, her red hair mussed.
“My Queen, if you wanted to join us, you only had to ask,” she teased with a smirk.
My face burned hot, and I shook my head. All words escaped me, and my eyes brimmed again. Source-damned tears.
“Oh no...” Elsedora’s face fell.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Get...back to it.” I staggered backward, turning to spin on my heels.
El caught my forearm. “Hold on,” she said. She cracked the door and commanded, “Ryn, get dressed. Out!”
Thankfully, Ryn was clothed when he appeared, looking not at all sheepish. He smiled until he saw the tears streaming down my cheeks and then glanced between me and Elsie, wide-eyed. “Right then. I’ll leave you two.”
Elsedora pushed him out of the doorway before dragging me toward her bedchamber.
“Come back later,” she called after him.
Ryn just huffed a laugh over his shoulder and said, “Only if she does agree to join us.”
A watery laugh bubbled from me, but I didn’t respond to Ryn’s crude joke. I watched him go, knowing exactly how good he looked out of those breeches now.
“Hush, you’ll get yourself killed if he hears you,” Elsedora warned him before dragging me inside and shutting the door.She spun me and sat me down on the sofa below a gallery wall of paintings depicting the Hussa mountains and Belray. It had never struck me that maybe Elsedora might be homesick. Her chambers were a tribute to the North Corridor.
