King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(20)

I believed in neither.

I sat at her vanity now with dread and darkness in my heart and no hope for love, while Nadia worked my curls into a tight bun of braids and twists.

“Ouch!” I seethed as Nadia gouged my head with another hairpin.

“Do not touch!” she commanded, slapping my hands away as I reached up to soothe the place she’d jabbed.

“Then don’t stab me!”

Nadia placed her hands on her hips and huffed. She’d done my hair my whole life, and this was how every attempt ended—with her frustrated and my scalp bleeding.

I sighed and rubbed the space between my brows where a faint ache was forming.

“I didn’t mean to snap, Nadia.”

“It’s all right, my love. I cannot imagine what must be going through that head of yours.”

She couldn’t.

Because I was thinking about Adrian, once again wondering why he wanted a queen. What role did he envision for me? Was I to sit at his side as an equal? I could not imagine a vampire treating his mortal wife as more than food, and yet he had demanded my voice be heard when others would silence me. He had also promised not to feed from me…unless I asked.

I cringed. We were taught in sanctuary that the act of drinking blood was vile because it was the act of stealing goddess-given life, but I felt it was vile for a different reason: because of what it made us—prey. Why would I ever ask to be made a victim? And how could something that had caused so much death, resurrection, and pain be pleasurable?

Perhaps Adrian was a sadist.

I supposed I would find out tonight. Thinking of our wedding night should make my stomach sour, but instead, I found I felt warm at the thought.

Once my hair was done, Nadia helped me into my dress—a black, sleeveless gown that flared at the waist. Gold lace created a halter that clasped around my neck and danced down the skirt of my dress. Trini, the seamstress, had woven larks into the design. It was beautiful work, regal work that spoke of power and elegance.

I had only worn it once—at the Reaping Feast, which was a celebration of the fall harvest. It was the same night I’d pointed a dagger in Lord Sigeric’s face for suggesting I needed to be tamed. I wondered now, as Nadia laced me into the dress, would Adrian try the same?

Nadia crossed the room to open a gilded cabinet where my mother had stored her tiaras. They’d always been unlike anything another royal wore throughout Cordova because they’d come from the Atoll. Some were circlets made from exotic-looking flowers I’d never seen before, others were made of pearl, and some of precious shell. Among them was her gold coronation crown, each fringe inlaid with white and black diamonds from her homeland. Nadia turned with it between her hands and said, “Today you will become a queen.”

I allowed her to settle the crown upon my head. It was heavy with the weight of my past, present, and future.

I turned to stare at myself, and I looked sad, grieving and uncertain, but proud. I knew duty, especially to my people, and I would marry Adrian to save them.

“You should kill him,” Nadia said, and I shifted to meet her gaze in the mirror. Adrian’s words from last night returned—the threat he’d made with my body pressed against his.

Oh, my sweet. I could turn you in an instant.

“Nadia—”

I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but I knew I was going to protest, and that thought really did make my stomach clench. Despite his threat, I should still be planning the Blood King’s death.

I turned toward her. As I did, she drew a dagger from her pocket. It was beautiful, the hilt and scabbard made with gold-plated steel and red rubies.

“Nadia.”

This time when I said her name, I sounded breathless.

“Take it,” she said. “It is a gift.”

She urged the dagger into my hands, and I unsheathed it with a snick. The blade was narrow, sharp, and unmarred.

“Kill him, Issi,” she said. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of claiming victory over the House of Lara.”

I met Nadia’s gaze.

“It is the honorable thing to do,” she added, holding on to my chin. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead before leaving the room.

I stared down at the dagger and then at myself.

You are the hope of our kingdom, Issi, my father had said. Did that mean I should fulfill my agreement to marry Adrian and step into the role as queen of Revekka, or did that mean I was one who could get close enough to kill him?

There was a knock at my door, and I jumped, not prepared to be disturbed so soon after Nadia’s departure.

“A moment!”

I slipped the blade into its sheath and shoved it between my breasts—a snug and uncomfortable fit, but it was the only place to hide it on my person, and I wanted to be armed at my wedding.

I turned toward the mirror and pretended to adjust wisps of my hair.

“Come in.”

My hands fell to my sides as I glimpsed my visitor in the mirror. King Adrian had entered my suite, dressed in a black tunic and an overcoat lined with intricate gold stitching. It did not escape me that we matched.

I turned to face him, taking in his overwhelming presence. The king was tall and filled my chamber like evening shadows. His hair fell in golden waves past his shoulders, and upon his head, he wore a crown of black spires. His strange white-blue eyes held my attention and then lowered, tracing a path down my body that left me holding my breath, warm in places that should be as dead as his lifeless heart. The fact that they weren’t made me feel like a traitor to my people—and angry with him.