He’s left the bathing room door wide open. Is that an invitation after last night, or merely efficiency? Or is he testing me? He admitted that he is—always.
At least I have a reason to keep my distance, which makes it harder to read the guilt and panic settled firmly on my shoulders now that I know what I am. “Bexley found me in the market. Kaders left out some details.”
There’s a long pause. “Can we not talk through a wall? Please come in here.”
There goes my strategy.
With several deep, calming breaths, I round the corner and step into Zander’s windowless bathing room—a mirror of mine, other than the black stone tub where mine is copper. It’s illuminated with a dozen flickering candles, no doubt lit with a single thought from him.
Zander rests his head on the back of one end and stares up at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple jutting, his powerful torso on display, the rest of his body hidden below the surface of the water, too dark to catch even a glimpse.
My mouth goes dry. He may be the most desirable creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. And in this case, it’s an advantage, and possibly my saving grace.
Steam coats my skin as I ease in to take a seat in the chair next to the tub. I let myself admire him. I don’t take calming breaths or force my thoughts elsewhere. I stare and think of the feel of him in the alleyway last night for those brief moments until my blood thrums in my veins and my body hums with anticipation of it happening again.
Maybe this is another one of his tests, but if it is, I’ll win it on my own terms.
His head rolls to the side to regard me.
“Do you normally have an audience when you bathe?” I ask.
“If there is a female in my bathing chamber, she is not sitting in a chair beside me.” He smirks. “What did Kaders forget to mention last night?”
“That there was also a seer on his ship.”
The amusement slides off Zander’s face. “A seer. Here in Cirilea?”
“Yes. She was traveling with the elemental. They climbed into a wagon and disappeared.”
A flurry of thoughts fly through his gaze. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to speak to one.”
“It’s confusing, sometimes disturbing.” I rush to add, “That’s what Wendeline told me. We stopped by the sanctum on the way back.” But I also know firsthand, another stunning truth I need time to process.
“Did you tell Wendeline what Bexley told you?”
“I figured you would if you wanted her to know.” I study Zander’s chest intently to try to mask my lie.
He nods. His expression is pensive. “I’ve heard they can see things that we can’t.”
Find the gilded doe.
What has my father seen? Something about me, obviously. He said the gilded doe was looking for me. But Wendeline also said their visions aren’t rooted in reality.
“What else did Bexley say?”
“Nothing important.”
Those piercing hazel eyes shift back to me, and I know that even news of the seer isn’t distracting him anymore. He must sense the tension coursing through me with my lies. But which secret is weighing me down more? That I’ve tasked Bexley with finding Ianca, or that I’m a key caster sent to open a door and possibly tear a dimensional fold that will release a fresh army of monsters, or that Wendeline has been scheming with Mordain because of some prophecy that would see us together?
I do the only thing I can think of to distract both of us from too much consideration. I drag my chair closer, reach for the washcloth, and dipping it into the water, smooth it over his neck.
A sharp inhale slips from his lips.
“She told me not to trust anyone.” I smooth the soft material over his collarbones and his shoulders, focusing only on the feel of his body beneath my fingers, keeping my thoughts shallow. It’s not hard to do. In fact, it’s impossibly easy to focus on nothing but Zander when he’s around.
“That’s rich, coming from her.”
“That’s basically what I said. But the more I learn, the more I understand why you don’t trust anyone.” His chest is a canvas of smooth, unmarred skin, perfect in its sculpture. Warm water sluices over it as I wash away all evidence of sweat and dirt and dried blood.
“Everyone has given me a reason not to,” he admits after a moment.
“What about Elisaf?”
“Except for him. I trust him.”
“Completely?” I echo his question regarding Wendeline yesterday.
“Yes.”
“How can you be so sure?”
My fingertip grazes his bare skin against his rib cage, and he inhales deeply again. “Because I am the one who made him what he is.”
My hand stalls. “He told me he was attacked by an immortal in an alleyway.”
“He was. He’d been in the Knoll that night and allowed someone on his vein. We can only take so much before it becomes hazardous. But then the male who accosted him took more, far too much. By the time I came upon them, Elisaf was nearly gone. I knew he wouldn’t survive. So, I used my venom on him.”
“But you blamed the attacker for turning him. He was executed for it.” Zander is the one who told me that turning mortals was punishable by death no matter what the reason.
“Yes.” He studies my face a moment, as if waiting for my reaction to that admission of guilt.
I make a second pass over his prominent collarbones. “I’m sure you had a good reason.”
He smirks. “Besides not wanting to die?”
“You were the prince, and Elisaf was attacked. Neither of you would have died.”
“Maybe not. But my father would have felt the need to make an example of me. As it was, I had to fight to keep him from executing Elisaf.” Zander’s eyes shift from their intense scrutiny of my face back to the ceiling. “Humans are the literal lifeblood of Islor. We need them to survive, and the fear that the blood curse will take all of them from us runs deep, all the way back to the days of Ailill and Isla. Turning a human for any reason is forbidden by the crown. So Elisaf and I lied, and his attacker received the punishment he deserved.”
“And now you and Elisaf are bound by this secret?”
“We’re bound by the simple fact that I created him. I am his maker. He cannot help his loyalty. It is ingrained in his being. An odd side effect.”
“You’re his master.”
He snorts. “Don’t ever let him hear you say that.”
“He said you took pity on him after. Helped him survive and made him a soldier.”
“We helped each other survive. Another side effect of the venom is the euphoria of releasing it into a vein. It’s an exhilarating feeling, and when you give in to it once, it’s difficult not to keep giving into it.”
“You’re saying it’s addicting.”
“Yes. Addicting. Highly. Another reason why the act is banned within Islor. It took months to get the urge out of my system. Elisaf and I went into the mountains north of Lyndel, under the guise of helping him transition. Really, it was both of us battling our urges.”
I feel him exploring my face as I squeeze the cloth and watch the water pour down over his chest. “So, you trust him completely, then.”
“More than anyone else I know.” He pauses. “And now you know one of my deepest secrets.”