Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1)(74)
Ildiko’s muffled laughter lightened the moment, and Brishen quirked a smile at Anhuset. “No worries. If I didn’t have to feed her, I wouldn’t. Dancing would just invite her to stay longer.”
The visit was as excruciating as Ildiko predicted, but his unflappable wife persevered under Secmis’s contemptuous scrutiny and critical remarks. In fact, she mostly ignored the queen, except when spoken to or to ask if her accommodations were comfortable. Her focus centered on Brishen who counted the minutes until his mother finally left Saggara and left them in peace.
He didn’t ask her if the Beladine had tried to negotiate his release with her by forcing an annulment of his marriage. And Secmis remained silent on the matter as well. Her curious gaze took in his altered features and the way he’d balance a pitcher of wine against his glass before pouring.
The loss of his eye was not without consequence. He was completely blind on his left side. No flickers of movement or changing shades of light. The first fortnight had been the most frustrating. He couldn’t get out of the way of his own nose. It filled his vision, large as a crane’s beak. That had faded over time, but he still struggled with a sense of depth.
Walking up stairs presented a challenge with the first step, but the angle of his shadow aided him in sensing the changing depth and height of the steps. Walking down was another matter. His shadow fell straight in front of him, and the steps were nothing more than a smooth, sloping descent to his compromised vision. He still kept one hand on the wall until he adjusted to the regularity of the treads’ rise and fall.
He refused to be an invalid, and as soon as the healers pronounced him well enough to leave his bed, he’d donned light armor and joined Anhuset in the practice arena. His cousin treated his appearance as nothing out of the ordinary. Her patience was long and her sympathy non-existent as she helped him to relearn the skills of combat as a one-eyed fighter.
Brishen mentioned none of this to Secmis. He had no doubt she’d laughed when the Beladine had presented their threat to her. Her younger son’s death was of little importance, his survival and recuperation even less so.
Patience finally worn away by Secmis’s constant haranguing, Ildiko had excused herself well before dawn and fled for the sanctuary of their chamber. Brishen had let her go with a polite nod and cool bow. If Secmis even sensed his affection for Ildiko, she’d make things difficult for them.
Secmis tapped a claw on the rim of her goblet and watched Ildiko disappear into the stairwell. She turned to Brishen. “So, has she taken your Beladine neighbor as her lover yet?”
He had wondered how long it would take for her to fire the first volley. “No.”
She arched a doubtful eyebrow. “Are you sure? I’m told he is handsome to human women and even to some of the Kai. And of course he has both of his eyes.”
Second volley, this time dipped in malice. “I’m sure.”
Secmis frowned at his lack of reaction to her insults. “You haven’t yet asked me why I’m here.”
Brishen shrugged. “Saggara is part of your kingdom. I’m its caretaker. I assume you’re acting as the king’s emissary.” Whatever reason for the visit, it wasn’t good. He just had to wait until she revealed her purpose and brace for whatever impact it had.
She stretched in her chair, reminding him of a great cat—lithe, hungry, and ready to disembowel anything that moved. “Maybe I just wish to visit my younger son.”
He gulped down a swallow of wine to prevent breaking into guffaws.
Secmis continued their one-sided conversation. “Your claws are growing back. You don’t seem any worse for your ordeal—other than the scar and being half blind.” She spoke as if he’d taken a walk through the woods and stubbed his toe. “I bear strong children,” she said.
When you’re not snapping their necks, he thought but stayed silent.
Her self-satisfied smile changed, becoming something that sent a crawling chill down his back. It took everything within him not to shrink away or leap from his seat when she stroked his forearm in a slow caress. “It’s a shame you’re my son,” she purred. “You would have made a magnificent consort.”
A surge of bile burned up his throat. Brishen grabbed for the pitcher, braced it against his goblet and poured wine until it touched the brim. He emptied the cup in two swallows. “Why have you come, Your Majesty?” Never before had he struggled so hard not to reveal his loathing for the woman who bore him.
Her knowing gaze warned he might not be as stoic as he hoped. She reached into a pocket of her tunic and brought out a small decorative box. She placed it on the table and slid it toward him. He squelched the urge to push it back.
“I came to bring you this. It’s yours.” The queen gave a nonchalant shrug. “I have no idea why it was sent to me. It isn’t as if I would do anything with it.” She stood, and he scrambled to stand with her and bow. “You can wait to open it when your wife is with you.”
She swept around the table and signaled to the two handmaidens who hovered nearby, ready to serve her every whim. “I’m not staying a second night,” she announced. “Saggara lacks the most basic creature comforts. Uncomfortable beds, boring food and even duller company. No need to accompany me to the gates. I’ll leave sooner without you and a dirty troop of soldiers following after me. I’ll tell your father you send your regards.”