Page 28 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
“My entire life. Ephesus was the only province in Lenorea they could find safe haven, and for some reason, my parents wanted to stay here. They couldn’t stomach being away for long. Goran and my parents were close...” Nakir glanced up at her, his words slow and measured. “His late wife died the day my parents were exiled. She was my mother’s last remaining family, the only official casualty of the coup.”
Alethea swallowed. Both of Kerrigan’s parents had died because of the actions of her own.
“Sometimes, it wasn’t convenient or even safe for us to be in Sardes, in which case we would abscond to Rai’Sharr, but I spent most of my childhood and young adulthood there.”
Alethea couldn’t imagine being hunted across the country that had once bowed to you.
“I’m sorry about the Great Lord,” she told him sincerely. “And your parents.”
Nakir’s smile was soft, not reaching his eyes, as he swam on his back in circles before slowly treading toward her. “Thank you. Goran was devoted to my parents and never let go of what was done to them, especially after their deaths. He held them so highly... It’s hard to imagine ever living up to such a legacy.” His smile faded.
“What were they like?” Alethea asked him, swaying her feet from side to side in the warm water. Nakir’s voice was soothing, and she had the thought she could listen to him speak well into the night.
“My father was calm, even-keeled, difficult to rattle. He was a great champion of the downtrodden, the underdog. He could be stern with me, but he had a great sense of humor as well. Stubborn, but not nearly as much as my mother. My mother... Well, most others would describe her as strong, courageous. But the woman I knew was soft. Gentle, even. She was extraordinarily kind to me, no matter what trouble I caused. And she loved my father more than anything in this world.”
Jealousy panged through Alethea as Nakir described them in such great detail, wishing she could have felt a fraction of that maternal love.
“You sure you don’t want to come in?” he asked again, interrupting her thoughts.
She sighed, pursing her lips. She desperately wished for a swim, having come to this place to do exactly that—and to wash away the past few days.
“Fine. Turn around,” she demanded, only removing her clothes once she was confident he had. She tied her hair up into a messy, tangled knot on top of her head before edging into thecalm evening lake, letting the water reach all the way up to her neck. “There,” she told him when she was mostly obscured.
Nakir turned back around, but she noticed how he kept a respectable distance.
A nervous awareness crept in all the same—of the darkness beyond the tree line, of Nakir’s proximity, of how entirely unguarded she was in this moment. She kept her feet moving, searching for the bottom. She was alone in a lake in the dark with a man she barely knew, and the strangest part was that it didn't frighten her the way it should have.
That frightened her instead.
“Your parents,” Alethea said, bottling her fear and returning to their conversation as she found her footing. “They sound... wonderful.”
Nakir chuckled and ducked his head back, wetting his hair and his horns as he gazed up at the moon. “Don’t get me wrong—we fought like any other family. But I had twenty years with them, and… We were close. You, on the other hand?—”
Alethea’s gaze dropped to the inky lake, cheeks heating at the sudden shift as he swam closer.
“After we returned to the encampment and you fell asleep, Balthasar told me what he’d witnessed... in the interrogation chambers.”
Alethea crossed her arms, unable to meet his intense amber stare. “What a poor little princess,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “She eats off gilded plates while people around the Realm starve, and she has the gall to cry about it.” She wasn’t going to pretend she’d had it nearly as hard as the people in her city.
He closed the distance, and a pair of gentle yet firm fingers lifted her chin so she was forced to look directly into Nakir’s eyes. His proximity made her cheeks warm, but she was held in place by his presence.
“Just because a cage is made of gold doesn’t make it any lessof a prison. People who love you should never force you to give up a part of yourself to keep them safe.”
Unbidden tears pricked at her eyes, but Alethea wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of his words. “Not according to my mother,” she choked out. “OrReingard Delaney.” Even speaking his name out loud proved challenging. Her stomach sank as she rolled her eyes, pushing the memories away.
Nakir went still. Just for a breath. “The Prince of Azmarin, heir to the Silver Throne. You know him?”
“I used to,” Alethea admitted, crossing her arms and brushing a stray leaf off her shoulder. “My mother once had great hopes of an alliance between our kingdoms.” She’d ruined that the same way she ruined everything.
Nakir’s head tilted slightly. “An alliance,” he repeated, thoughtful. “You mean a marriage.”
The words landed with uncomfortable accuracy.
“Yeah.” She looked away as memories of her summer in the eastern kingdom surfaced.
“What happened?” Nakir’s tone darkened, forcing her to look up into a face of deep concern.
“We met for the first time when I was twenty,” Alethea said quietly. “He came to Hyelea on a royal visit. After that... we wrote to each other for years. He was... eloquent.” A faint, humorless smile touched her lips. “Two years ago, we finally returned the visit to Azmarin. Our parents spent the entire summer anticipating a betrothal—it was all anyone could talk about.”
