Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(62)
She intended to explain all this to him in no uncertain terms. If he wanted to see her naked again, he’d have to order servants to strip her. She doubted that he’d do that. He’d made no move toward her, and when he presided over the arena debates, he’d actually done no more than sit and watch. She was getting a new impression of this God King. He was a man with so much power, he had grown lazy. He was a man who had everything, and so he bothered with nothing. He was a man who expected others to do everything for him. People like him annoyed her. She was reminded of a guard captain in Idris who had insisted on making his men work hard, while he spent his afternoons playing cards.
It was time the God King was defied. More than that, it was time that his priests learned that they couldn’t bully her. She was tired of being used. Tonight, she would react. That was her decision. And it made her nervous as all Colors.
She glanced at Bluefingers. Eventually, she caught his eye. “Do they really watch me each night?” she asked, leaning in and whispering.
He paused, paling slightly. He glanced to either side, then shook his head.
She frowned. But Treledees knew that I hadn’t been bedded by the God King.
Bluefingers raised a finger, pointing to his eyes, then shook his head. Then he pointed to his ears and nodded. He pointed to a doorway down the hall.
They listen, Siri thought.
Bluefingers leaned in closer. “They would never watch, Vessel,” he whispered. “Remember, the God King is their holiest of deities. Seeing him nude, watching him with his wife . . . no, they wouldn’t dare. However, they aren’t above listening.”
She nodded. “They are very concerned about an heir.”
Bluefingers glanced about nervously.
“Am I really in danger from them?” she asked.
He met her eyes, then nodded sharply. “More danger than you know, Vessel.” Then he backed away, gesturing at the doorway.
You have to help me! she mouthed at him.
He shook his head, holding up his hands. I cannot. Not now. With that, he pushed open the door, bowed, and scuttled away, glancing nervously over his shoulder.
Siri glared at him. The time was swiftly approaching when she’d need to corner him and find out what he really knew. Until then, she had other people to annoy. She turned and glanced into the dark room. Her nervousness returned.
Is this wise? Being belligerent had never bothered her before. And yet . . . her life wasn’t like it had been before. Bluefingers’s fear had left her even more on edge.
Defiance. It had always been her way to get attention. She hadn’t been obstinate out of spite. She’d simply been unable to measure up to Vivenna, so she’d just done the opposite of what was expected of her. Her defiance had worked in the past. Or had it? Her father had been perpetually angry at her, and Vivenna had always treated her like a child. The city’s people had loved her, but sufferingly.
No, Siri thought suddenly. No, I can’t go back to that. The people in this palace—this court—they aren’t the types you can defy just because you’re annoyed. Spurn the palace priests, and they wouldn’t grumble at her like her father had. They’d show her what it really meant to be in their power.
But what to do then? She couldn’t keep throwing off her clothing and kneeling on the floor, naked, could she?
Feeling confused, and a little angry at herself, she stepped into the dark room and pulled the door closed. The God King waited in his corner, shadowed as always. Siri looked at him, staring at that too-calm face. She knew that she should disrobe and kneel, but she didn’t.
Not because she felt defiant. Not even because she felt angry or petulant. Because she was tired of wondering. Who was this man who could rule gods and bend light with the force of his BioChroma? Was he really just spoiled and indolent?
He stared back at her. As before, he didn’t grow angry at her insolence. Watching him, Siri pulled at the strings on her dress, dropping the bulky garment to the floor. She reached for the shoulders of her shift, but hesitated.
No, she thought. This isn’t right either.
She glanced down at the shift; the edges of the white garment fuzzed, the white bending into color. She looked up at the God King’s impassive face.
Then—gritting her teeth against her nervousness—Siri took a step forward.
He tensed. She could see it in the edges of his eyes and around his lips. She took another step forward, the white of her garment bending further into prismatic colors. The God King didn’t do anything. He just watched as she drew closer and closer.
She stopped right in front of him. Then she turned from him and climbed up onto the bed, feeling the deep softness beneath her as she crawled to the middle of its mattress. She sat up on her knees, regarding the black marble wall with its obsidian sheen. The God King’s priests waited just beyond, listening carefully to hear things that were really none of their business.
This, she thought, taking a deep breath, is going to be exceptionally embarrassing. But she’d been forced to lie prostrate, naked, before the God King for over a week. Was now really the time to start feeling self-conscious?
She began to bounce up and down on the bed, making its springs creak. Then, cringing slightly, she started to moan.
She hoped it was convincing. She didn’t really know what it was supposed to sound like. And how long did it usually continue? She tried to make her moans get louder and louder, her bouncing more furious, for what she assumed was a proper amount of time. Then she stopped sharply, let out a final moan, and fell back onto the bed.