I studied him as I dropped one bare foot to the stone floor. His hair was uncombed, face flushed under the shadow of his unshaven jaw. The white shirt he wore was untucked and wrinkled. So were the loose white pants. He looked as if he hadn’t yet gone to bed. My gaze returned to his face. His eyes were bright.
“Are you drunk?” I asked. “Is that how you lost your way to your rooms?”
“I know exactly where I am.” Tavius unfolded his arms and pushed away from the door. “You and I need to have a chat.”
The remnants of sleep vanished in an instant. My gaze flicked over him once more, searching for signs of a weapon. I saw none. “There is nothing that you and I need to talk about,” I said, inching my hand across the thin mattress toward the underside of my pillow where, during the last three years, I’d started keeping my dagger as I slept. “Unless you’re here to express remorse for being the cause of three young guards’ deaths.”
He frowned at me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Are you really going to pretend that you had nothing to do with those guards who attacked me?” I lowered my other foot to the floor as I shifted toward the head of the bed.
“Oh, you’re talking about them.”
“Yes, the guards you hired to risk their lives for coin you do not have.”
He sneered. “You think far too highly of yourself if you believe I’d waste even one coin on anything that has to do with you.”
“If that was supposed to be an insult, you need to do better,” I snapped back, slipping my fingers under the pillow.
“It’s just the truth, little sister.”
“Do not call me sister,” I hissed. “That is an insult.”
He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring as he jerked his head back. “You will speak to me with respect.”
I coughed out a harsh laugh. “No. I will not. What I will do, is give you a chance to leave this room with your flesh and ego intact.”
A muscle throbbed in his temple, and I braced myself for an explosion of anger. Instead, he laughed softly, and unease unfurled. “You’re so mouthy now, sister. I must admit, I preferred the meek and submissive version of you.”
“Is that so?” Under the pillow, I spread my fingers out and…and found nothing. I glanced at the pillow, my stomach dropping.
“What is it, sister?” Tavius queried, and my gaze shot to him. He reached around to his back. “Missing something?”
Disbelief thundered as he pulled the shadowstone dagger from behind him. The unease took root deep in my chest. “How did you get that?”
“You were sleeping. You didn’t even feel me slide it out from under the pillow,” he replied. “What a tacky place to keep such a weapon.” He grinned. “It would’ve been safer under the mattress.”
How…how long had he been in my bedchamber? Bile crept up my throat as I pulled my hand out from under the pillow and gripped the edge of the mattress. There was no way Tavius could’ve been quiet or stealthy enough to do that. I had been sleeping far more deeply than I realized. I forced myself to take a long, slow breath. He may have my dagger, but that was all he had. “What do you want to talk about, Tavius?” I asked, gauging the distance between us to be about six feet.
“So defiant,” he whispered, the flush of his cheeks heightening. He slammed the dagger into the wardrobe without warning, causing me to jump. The white handle reverberated from the impact. I hated that he’d caught me off guard. I really hated how that smirk deepened.
I bet he was rather proud of what he’d done with the dagger. And I would also be willing to bet that he was too much of an arrogant fool to realize that he’d given up the only chance he had of protecting himself—as paltry an opportunity as that would’ve been. “You’re going to want to leave my bedchamber,” I warned, flattening my feet on the floor.
“And you’re going to want to change that attitude of yours, especially after what happened.”
What happened?
“Is this because I attended the Rite?” Muscles in my legs tensed as I stood. “Am I really to be punished for such a horrid offense?”
“That was one hell of a stunt you pulled, daring to show your face. But…” He swallowed as his gaze lowered again. The night rail barely reached my knees. His perversion distracted him.
And it would cost him.
I shot forward, not for him but for the dagger. It seemed like the smart choice if not the choice I wanted. Instinct demanded that I go at him and lay him out, but I also knew that whatever harm I inflicted upon him would be paid back tenfold. That was why I chose the dagger, thinking I could threaten him into leaving.
And that choice cost me.
Tavius moved faster than I anticipated. In a stuttered heartbeat, I realized I’d underestimated him. He crashed into me, holding my arms to my sides. “I don’t think so,” he said.
He twisted us so sharply, my legs went out from under me. He pushed hard, forcing both of us forward. I kicked out, but there was nothing but empty space. He turned again, and the sparse bedchamber whirled wildly. I caught a glimpse of the bed before he dropped me, belly-first onto the mattress.
It provided little softness. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and sent a jolt of dull pain across my midsection. I started to flip over, but he came down on top of me, pinning my legs and torso under the weight of his body, and my arms under the pressure of us both.
I was trapped.
“You may be trained, but at the end of the day, you’re still just a weak female.” He pushed me down. “Who is finally going to fucking listen to me.”
I wastrapped.
“Get off me!” I screamed into the mattress.
His elbow pressed into the back of my head, forcing my face into the bedding. I breathed, only to inhale the sheet covering the bed. Panic exploded like a wild beast as I struggled, gaining nothing more than an inch. I screamed into the mattress, the sound captured and muffled. My heart pounded. I couldn’t get enough air. Not even when I managed to turn my head to the side enough that I was no longer inhaling the sheet. I still couldn’t get air into my lungs.
“You will start respecting me now. Want to know why?” His foul breath, full of stale ale and liquor, blasted my cheek. “Ask me, sister. Ask me why.”
“Why?” I spat, gasping as his elbow pressed into the space below my neck, sending a blast of pain down my spine. Fury roared through me, crashing into the building panic. I couldn’t get enough air in, and the weight of him, the feel of him was unbearable. I screamed again, and he shoved his forearm into the back of my head, pressing my face back into the mattress. My heart clawed at my chest. Dear gods, I was going to kill him. I was going to dig out his eyes with my bare fingers and then slice off his hands, his—
He put his mouth to my ear. “Because I am now King.”
My heart thudded with disbelief.
“Yeah,” he breathed, grabbing a fistful of hair. He lifted my head, and I dragged in mouthfuls of air. “You heard me right. I am King.”
“How? Your father—”
“He died in the middle of the night. In his sleep.” He yanked my head back. Fiery pain erupted over my scalp, and pressure pushed down on my spine as he held my head and neck at an unnatural angle. “The Healers say it was an ailment of the heart.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. None of it made sense. But if he spoke the truth…? How was Ezra? How was my mother?