King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(91)

“What are you doing?” I asked, coming to stand beside him.

“Watching my fish.”

He did not look at me, just stared into the pool.

“Your…fish?”

He said nothing, and I supposed he did not need to repeat himself, because as I came to stand beside him, I saw the fish too. There were larger ones and small ones; some were orange and white, and others were silver and black. They mingled and parted, a mesmerizing dance.

“Are they…your pets?”

Adrian’s lips quirked. “I suppose you can call them that. They make me feel calm.”

I wondered what spurred his discontent. Was it that my father had arrived from Lara? Or that Isla was still missing and Ravena was on the run?

“And you?” he asked. “Why do you come to the garden?”

My thoughts were far more personal than my answer. I came to the gardens because while I did not know my mother, the flowers felt like her embrace. And that was what I craved right now.

“The same as you.”

We were both quiet for a moment, and then Adrian said my name, and it wasn’t until I looked at him that I broke.

I cried. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and I met his mouth with mine, and soon my back was against the vine-covered wall, my legs wrapped around Adrian’s waist. We were almost frantic with how quickly we came together. His fingers bit into my thighs, while mine twined into his hair. My breaths were cries, keening and desperate as Adrian moved inside me at this odd angle.

“Sparrow,” he breathed and buried his head in the crook of my neck. As he did, I saw that we were not alone in the garden, and I choked on a moan as Killian’s name spilled from my mouth.

I felt Adrian stiffen against me, and he slowly lowered me to the ground.

I couldn’t even look at Killian, my face felt so hot. All I had worried about was how to interact with Adrian when my father and Killian were near, and here I’d been caught having sex with him. Knowing the commander, he would tell my father too. Then what? My relationship with my father already felt strained.

“Commander Killian,” Adrian said, a pitch of frustration in his voice. “Can we do something for you?”

“You dishonor her,” he said.

Adrian offered a shrewd smile.

“In what way? By fucking her against a wall? It feels like worship to me.”

Killian gritted his teeth, and I looked between them, embarrassed both by Adrian’s words and that we had been caught, by Killian no less. I hurried from the garden, heading for the secret corridors that would allow me to pass, unnoticed, to my own room, but just inside the door, Adrian caught up to me.

“Isolde!” He reached for my arm, and I twisted toward him.

“Did you do that on purpose?” I demanded.

Adrian flinched, almost like I had slapped him, and then he narrowed his eyes. “Why do you care that he saw us?”

I glared and he waited. Finally, I relented, admitting, “I don’t know how to do this. Be with you and love them.”

“No one says you cannot do both,” Adrian said.

“That is not the world we live in, Adrian.”

“You are queen of Revekka, soon to be queen of Cordova. You get to decide what world you live in.”

I returned his gaze, my chest tightening. If that was the case, why did I feel so powerless? I watched him take a breath and then step away.

“I am here when you are ready.”

Adrian left me in the corridor, alone.

*

As evening approached, I asked Violeta and Vesna to help me get dressed early in a gown that Violeta had made from fabrics gathered at the market in Cel Ceredi. It was sleeveless, the bodice a black appliqué that cupped my breasts and trailed down my stomach into a full skirt made of light pink silk overlaid with black tulle.

Adrian would like it, I thought, and this time as the familiar claws of guilt attempted to grip my chest, I shoved them away.

Today, I would stop feeling guilty about my feelings for Adrian.

They were complicated to be sure, but no more complicated than how I felt about the people of Lara who had tried to kill me or my father, who had kept the enslavement of my mother’s people from me.

“I saw you with your father today,” Violeta said. “You looked so happy.”

I had been happy; now I was confused and a little angry. I wondered how she felt, having my father in her country, an enemy who agreed with Dragos’s agenda, the king who had killed her family.

“I was happy to see him. He was all I had for so long, since my mother died when I was born.”

He had been my world, and there had been nothing beyond that.

Now, that was not so. Now, I had Adrian, and soon I’d have a whole nation.

“Then I am glad he is here to watch you become queen of Revekka,” she said, and despite my conflicted feelings around my home and my father, I was thankful for Violeta’s words.

The last piece of my outfit was a black circlet. It was heavier than I expected and had black obsidian gems twisted around it. As I placed it upon my head, I wondered just how happy my father would be seeing me as queen.

“If there is nothing else, my queen?”

“No, nothing else,” I said. “Thank you, Violeta, Vesna.”

The women left, and I turned from the mirror and crossed the room to store my blades inside the drawer, since they could not be hidden on my person in this dress. But as I went to put them away, my eyes fell to the book I’d taken from the library—the one in which the strange blade was hidden. I had yet to open it again, to pick up the knife, for fear of reliving the encounter with Dragos once more, but something drew me to the book, and as I opened it, I realized it wasn’t a book at all but a journal. The words were so precise, it looked like print.