The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(145)

Whether this was because Lahn was taking no chances, especially when I might be carrying his true child and not a monster, or because he believed me and wanted me back, I had no clue.

And I didn’t care.

I was back to needing to find a way to live in a world I wanted no part of. And I was back to Lahn giving me no choice about my own life.

What I wasn’t back to was finding it in me to give much of a shit.

All the fight had left me and I had no energy to find it.

So what has been has been and what will be was what I would make of it.

I just needed to figure out what I was going to make of it.

I felt a weird pain tighten in my belly and my brows drew together as my hand went there.

That was new.

I looked down at my stomach. I now wore sarongs wrapped around my body and tied at the back of my neck like Twinka did. Jacanda told me that this was unusual for a pregnant woman in Korwahk, they wore their sarongs and tops as normal, their bellies protruding over their belts. I could dig that for the Korwahk. They were the Korwahk; they did crazy shit all the time. But no way in hell was I wandering around with my giganto stomach on display. I had managed to contain a bunch of extra weight being gained but my stomach was enormous. The kid had to be huge.

“What are you up to now, kah teenkah tunakan?” I whispered as I slid my hand to wrap around the bottom of the enormous swell and hold him close.

Ghost’s head came up and she looked to the top of the stairs. I followed her gaze and then I held my breath when I saw Diandra alight at the top. Then I let it out in a gush when I saw The Eunuch follow her.

My gaze shot back to Diandra and I kept my silence. Her eyes were warm as they travelled over me but her face was expressionless.

I got that.

I had been rude, insufferably and unforgivably rude to a good friend who had stood by my side through some serious thick and some anorexic-style thin. I was going to have to find the words to explain it to her and what was good, and made me feel guilt at the same time, was that I knew she would understand and forgive me.

Something I wasn’t sure I deserved.

But now, the presence of The Eunuch, with Diandra of all people, made me keep my silence, slap up my guard and brace.

His eyes slid over my face then he walked to the table and chairs. Grabbing two, he picked them up, brought them over and set them at the foot of my lounge chair. He held the back for Diandra until she sat and arranged her two layered sarongs over her legs (good idea that, two matching sarongs to ward out the chill, I’d have to remember that) and pull her own shawl closer around her upper body that was not covered in a bandeau or short halter top but what looked like a short-sleeved, tight fitting t-shirt made of thin weave, soft wool that covered her to her belly.

Only when Diandra had settled did The Eunuch sit facing me.

Both their eyes were on me.

I said not a word.

Finally, The Eunuch spoke in Korwahk. “I trust you are well, my true, golden queen?”

I blinked.

His voice was quiet, there was a thread of concern in it and he’d called me his true, golden queen. Not just his queen.

Hmm.

“I am fine,” I replied.

He nodded his head once and informed me, “Our king speaks true. Your beauty blooms magnificently having grown heavy with his child.”

Really, I wished Lahn would quit being sweet, not only to me but now hearing he was wandering around complimenting me. It was getting on my nerves.

“Shahsha,” I muttered, my eyes slid to Diandra to see her head tipped slightly to the side, concern she wasn’t quite able to hide now on her features.

Shit.

“It has come to my attention you do not allow your women to attend you,” The Eunuch stated and I looked back at him.

“I have been… not myself for some time,” I replied.

He inclined his head.

Then he said softly, “You grieve your lost world.”

I blinked at him.

He knew.

That was a surprise.

Well, whatever. If Lahn was stupid enough to trust this guy, so be it. It wasn’t any of my business.

I decided not to answer.

“There is only one person in Korwahk who calls me Karrim,” he stated bizarrely, changing the subject and I spoke not a word but didn’t take my eyes from him. “My king,” he finished quietly and I braced again.

Ghost shifted so her sleek bulk rested against my lounge chair, a show of support.

My hand went from my belly back to her fur and I stroked.

What I didn’t do was speak.

“After…” he paused a moment before going on, “what happened to me, it was not my manhood I missed.” He waited and when I made no reply (though I had to say I was pretty surprised at this news), he went on, “It was my Horde. Since I could remember, my father spoke to me about my future as warrior and since I could move my limbs at my command, he started training me to be warrior. He was warrior. It was in his blood, passed down to me. There was no day more beautiful to me than when the Dax pressed his palm to the earth and at five years of age I took my knee for the first time in service to The Horde.”

Wow. Interesting.

He kept speaking. “Therefore, there was no day worse for me than when I was cast out of it.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered because, really, I needed to be cautious with this guy but I felt I had to say something mainly because his voice shook with emotion I could not believe was fake.