Kallias and I join the rest of the nobles for lunch in the great hall. We need to be a strong and united front for all the courtiers to see. Kallias is undaunted by the attack on his life. He is as strong as ever. And everyone is here to witness it.

Save Vasco, Zervas, and Orrin, of course.

I lean forward in my seat. “Rhoda, where is Galen? Why isn’t he joining us?”

Rhoda turns her head to stare at the man leaning against the wall with the other servants. She pivots back around, a forlorn look on her face. “He wouldn’t come. Said it would put too much pressure and attention on me. Can you believe it? He’s worried about me!”

Kallias looks up from his meal. “You’re pursuing your manservant?

Romantically?”

Rhoda meets Kallias’s gaze without shame. “I am.” She raises a bite of food to her mouth.

Kallias nods. “Would it help if I made him a lord? Gave him some land and a title?”

Rhoda chokes.

“I think it would,” I say.

Rhoda takes a deep drink from her cup. “Your Majesty, I could never ask such a thing!”

“If it would make Alessandra happy, then it’s already done.” Kallias switches his fork to his left hand. His right goes under the table.

To my leg.

I try to keep my face neutral at the sudden weight.

“Oh, sire, thank you! But I have plenty of land for the two of us. He doesn’t need it. But a title! We would be honored to accept that.”

“Then I will make it all official and have my man draw up all the particulars. We’ll gift it to him in public to help do away with the suspicion about you two.”

Rhoda leaves the table abruptly and runs over to Galen. She takes him by the hand before leading him from the room.

Meanwhile, Kallias’s hand slides to the inside of my thigh. I don’t know how he manages it while also bringing food to his lips. I nearly drop my spoon when his thumb rubs over an especially sensitive spot. I’m so glad I opted for a dress with thin skirts today.

Even though it makes it impossible to focus on a single word Hestia is saying.

Something about inviting me to visit with her at Lord Paulos’s estate.

Or maybe—

Kallias’s hand slides higher. Oh, that wicked man.

“Forgive me,” I say, standing from the table, “but I’m not feeling so well. I think I’ll retire to my rooms.”

I practically run from the table, hoping to hide the heat in my cheeks and my quickened breath. I don’t spare Kallias a glance.

 

 

WHEN I REACH MY ROOM, I dismiss all the servants who had begun moving my things over to Kallias’s rooms. They appear to have made it through my vanity and washroom but stopped just shy of the wardrobe.

Perhaps I should consider a cool bath.

There’s a knock, followed by the door opening. Kallias, of course. “You’re unwell? Why didn’t you say—”

I throw myself at him, layering hot, openmouthed kisses on him. Though startled at first, he soon returns them in kind. Lavender-mint fills my senses, and his mouth has the light taste of wine.

I lean him against the nearest wall, fusing our bodies together, let my hands slide the jacket off his shoulders.

“I’m just fine,” I say as I pull back slightly to deal with a button that’s impeding my progress. “You, however, are in trouble.”

“For what?” he asks innocently.

“Distracting me to the point of not being able to eat my meal.”

He spins us around, spins me around, so my front is pressed against the wall, my head turned to the side to look at him.

“That doesn’t seem right,” he says. “All I did was…”

And then he’s bending down, pulling up my skirts so he can trace the same path he did under the table, only this time on my bare skin.

Meanwhile, his lips are exploring the back of my neck, and I’m trapped, helpless to do anything but feel him as his fingers explore higher and higher.

When I can’t take it any longer, I push off from the wall, spin to face him. His lips find mine, and his fingers are in my hair, pulling out the pins I used to hold it up this morning.

I place my hands at my back, trying to reach the laces holding my dress together. I need it off. Now. There is too much between his body and mine.

Once he realizes what I’m doing, he says, “No.” He steps backward. “No,” he repeats.

And I think I might scream if he tries to stop this, if he— “Let me,” he adds.

In mere seconds my dress is gone, and I’m before him in my chemise.

He looks me over slowly, at the skin he can view beneath the practically see-through material.

“If I were a better man, I would send you away,” he says. “My life is dangerous. There’s always someone trying to kill me. Even if this threat has been dealt with, there will be others. You could get hurt by being close to me.”

“Good thing you’re not a better man.” I take off his cravat, start on the buttons of his shirt. “Why?” I ask. “Why didn’t you take me last night?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to. Or if you wanted to wait until after the wedding. You didn’t—”

“I want to.” I rip off the last button after it slips through my fingers for the second time.

And then he carries me to the bed.

The Shadow King, it turns out, was well worth the wait.

 

 

THE FORMER QUEEN‘S SITTING room is now my sitting room. I still have a mind to redecorate it, but for now it’s the perfect place for Rhoda, Hestia, and I to spend some time alone.

Especially when I have so much to tell them.

“What was it like?” Hestia wants to know. “Being with a king?”

“It was … better than anything I could have imagined,” I say. “But I don’t think it had anything to do with the fact that Kallias is a king.”

It is his patience, his ability to hold himself back until the right moment that makes him such a good lover.

“What of you and Lord Paulos?” I ask. “Have you two…?”

“No,” she says simply. “I asked him if we could wait until after the wedding.”

“Has he pressured you?” I ask, suddenly growing protective of my friend.

“Oh, no. He’s been wonderful about it. You might think I’m silly, but I just want to wait until I’m his wife.”

I take her hand in mine. “There is nothing silly about waiting until you want to. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. It is your body to do with as you will.”

She smiles at me then, and I worry that I might be the first person to tell her that.

Waiting. Not waiting. One lover. A hundred lovers. There should be no judgment either way. A woman is not defined by what she does or doesn’t do in the bedroom.

“What of you, Rhoda?” Hestia asks. “What’s the latest with you and Galen?”

“If it were up to me, I would have bedded him after the ball,” Rhoda says. “Galen wants to wait. He muttered some nonsense about preserving my virtue. But if you ask me? He wants to wait until we’re married so I can’t change my mind. As if he has anything to worry about!”

“Perhaps you need to be a bit more persuasive,” I suggest. “I’m open to ideas.”

“Have you tried waiting for him in his bed at night?” “Yes!”

“Already naked?”

She opens her mouth. Pauses. “No.”

“He won’t resist that.” In a more practical voice, I add, “You’d think he’d be a little more grateful after being made a lord. He should be worshipping you.”

“So true,” Rhoda says. She sighs.

And I look at my two friends. My first real friends. I thought women were always my competitors, people to be jealous of. How wrong I was.

We’re all just so happy. I hope it lasts forever.

The door to the sitting room bursts open, nearly flying off its hinges.

“Lady Stathos, you’re ordered to appear before the king immediately.” Some nondescript guard issues the command. He’s flanked by two other men wearing the crest of the king.

“Is Kallias all right?” I ask as I stand abruptly.

“Take her,” the first guard says, and the other two flank me, each grabbing one of my arms, and start physically pulling me toward the doorway.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rhoda yells from behind me. “That’s the future queen. Unhand her at once.”

But she’s ignored, and my arms are bruised as I’m dragged up the stairs, toward the library that Kallias and I use for our private meals.

After a while, I stop struggling and just bear the humiliation. I will deal with these three men once I’m with Kallias. Oh, how they’ll pay then.

This is some sort of mistake. They must have misunderstood the king’s orders. I can’t imagine what he said to give them the impression I should be treated as a prisoner.

But when they finally release me, I find Kallias alone in the library, his back to the door.

“Wait outside,” he says to the guards. They do, shoving me unceremoniously toward the king.

“Kallias, what is this? Gods, I have bruises from the guards!”

He turns, his eyes going to my arms to assess the damage. Then, as if remembering himself, he looks away, hardening his features.

“Why did you come to court?” he asks in a low tone. “Because you asked me to!” I’m fuming now.

“No. What was your real purpose? Why were you at the ball, the one specifically set up by my advisers because they wanted me to select someone to court? Why did you ignore me, practically force me to come to you?”

Dread sinks low in my chest, but how—how could he know?

“Where are these questions coming from? Have I done something wrong? Kallias, it’s me.”

Did Zervas spout more drivel about me being involved in his attacks?

“The servants finished moving your things over to my room. This was found in your wardrobe.”

He holds up the vial of minalen—the one I stole from the healer and then shoved into the back of my wardrobe ages ago.

And promptly forgot about.

“Kallias—”

“You are suspected of treason,” he bites out. “And you will address me as Your Majesty for these proceedings.”

Something in my heart twists, breaks, dissolves away. Leaving a gaping wound in its place. I need a lie. A convincing one. Fast. Now.

But I, conniving, scheming Alessandra Stathos cannot think of a single thing to say when he looks at me with such loathing.

“Why was this in your wardrobe?” he demands. “I’ve already had it examined by one of my healers. It’s the same kind of poison that was found in my cup after your ball.”

Oh, a horrid coincidence. I open my mouth.

“I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me, Alessandra.” I haven’t. Not really.

“You’ve misled me, of course, when it came to Hektor and the baron. But I don’t think you’ve ever spoken an outright lie to me. Do you think I’d be able to tell if you were? Let’s find out. Now tell me what you used this for.”

I look down at my fingers to find them shaking. “Look at me!” he says.

I do. Any hesitation on my part would only seem as though I’m trying to come up with a lie. So the truth starts to spill out of me.

“I—” I cough and force my face to remain calm. “I went to that ball with the intention of catching your eye,” I start.

“I don’t need the whole story. What I need is for you to tell me who the poison was for and why.” He considers the vial. “It’s unopened, and it does you little good to kill me before we are wed. Were you working with Vasco? Did he put his plan into action too soon without you? Or were you working for him? Distracting me so that I would touch you and make myself vulnerable to him?”

“No! I was not working for or with Vasco in any manner. I had nothing to do with what happened at the ball.”

“Then what did you intend it for, Alessandra!”

A single tear slides down my cheek. “You. I intended it for you.” The cruel man before me disappears for the briefest of moments.

Kallias’s face falls, hurt softening his features. Then the villain is back. “Why?”

“I had a plan. There were three simple steps. I was going to woo you.

I was going to marry you. And then—” “And then what?”

“And then I was going to kill you and take your kingdom for myself.”

A bitter smile stretches across his lips. “That does sound like you.” “But, Kallias, I threw out that plan weeks ago. I no longer had any

desire to kill you because I—” “What? You what, Alessandra?”

Now the tears are coming quickly. I can’t look at him as I say it. I don’t want to say it, but my life is on the line. “I fell in love with you.”

He laughs. The sound is not kind, and the empty space where my heart once was burns with pain. “All this time, I worried about old threats, when I should have also been looking for new ones. I suppose a king is never permitted friends or lovers. Not when every person in the world wants something from me.”

“It wasn’t like that. Not anymore. I swear it. I never lied to you. I never pretended anything with you. I didn’t have to. Don’t you see?”

“I don’t want to hear any more.” “Kallias, please.”

His neck snaps in my direction. “I told you. You are no longer allowed to address me in that way, Lady Stathos.”

The hurt is so deep, but so is the anger.

And that night with Hektor flashes into my mind.

My knife is in my boot, of course. I could draw it much faster than Kallias could his rapier. Especially when he’s mostly turned away from me.

And though my anger is rich and raw, I have no desire to reach down for my knife.

I could never, never wish Kallias any harm.

“You will leave,” he says. “I don’t care where you go, so long as I never have to see you again. If you come back here—if I ever have to look upon your face again, I’ll kill you myself.”

I rub at the tears as they fall. Try to gather my thoughts, but the ache in my chest is all consuming.

“Leave, dammit! Before I change my mind!” He stomps toward me, and I think he might physically remove me from the room if I don’t find my feet.

So I flee.

“Be out of the castle by nightfall!” he says to my retreating back. “I don’t care if you have to leave your things behind.”

That’s the last thing I hear. Out in the hallway, I see Hestia and Rhoda, waiting. They’ve brought my other friends, Leandros, Rhouben,

and Petros. What do they mean to do? Plead on my behalf? They don’t know what I’ve done. Will Kallias tell them?

“Alessandra—” Rhoda begins, but I ignore her. I rush past them all, streak up the stairs, ignoring the looks the servants give me as they see my red face and tearstained cheeks.

“I’ll go after her,” I think I hear someone say distantly. “You speak with the king.” But I barely make sense of anything. Everything is a blur through the moisture at my eyes. I fumble for the key to my room three times before I get the door open. The space is completely empty.

Right. I’ve been moved into his room.

The tears start afresh as I stride over to the adjoining door. And I look into the room that’s been made to fit both his things and mine. Our wardrobes are side by side. Extra pillows have been added to the bed. My vanity has been placed on a free wall, near the washroom that smells like the soaps he used this morning.

Looking at it all, at the evidence of the life I could have had, with him, I fall to the floor in a heap of skirts, my head dropping into my hands.

How long until nightfall? I don’t know. I don’t care. Not when everything is ruined.

I don’t know how long I sit there before the softest tapping reaches

me.

“Alessandra? May I come in?”

I don’t answer. I try to rub my tears off on my sleeves. He comes in anyway.

Leandros. He looks as though he has recently bathed, his hair still

damp. The smell of roses wafts over me. He must have had petals in the water.

“Oh dear,” he says when he sees me. Then he falls to the floor and gathers me to him, letting my head rest against his chest. One of his hands strokes my hair while his voice lets out soothing sounds.

I’ve already cried myself dry, though. My tears cease. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“There isn’t anything to say. He’s sent me away. I have until nightfall to collect my things.” My voice sounds hoarse.

Leandros tightens his grip. “How could he send you away? What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I say. And it’s true. I’d been caught with the vial of poison, but I didn’t use it. I hadn’t actually done anything. I wasn’t going to do anything. Why did I ever steal it in the first place?

“Then he’s a fool.” Leandros pulls back just enough to look at me, to wipe the last undried tear from my chin. “I know you’re hurting, but you will get past this. All will be well.”

And as I sit there, staring at Leandros, I’m overcome with a sudden urge.

The urge to hurt Kallias.

He made me feel for him and then sent me away. Tossed me aside as has happened to me once before.

How dare he?

So I lean forward and kiss Leandros. He doesn’t return it. He’s rigid as a board before me, so I use my hands to scoot closer, before letting them drift around his neck. I catch his lower lip with my teeth, and that results in the most delicious noise from his throat.

Then he returns everything in kind.

He is an exceptional kisser, but he is not Kallias.

I don’t care.

My hands drift to his hair, still slightly damp. There’s a hint of some other scent about him, but I can’t quite place it. It mixes nicely with the rose.

I wish Kallias would walk in. I wish he would think to check my progress. Wish he would change his mind and ask me to stay. Beg me for forgiveness. Get on his knees and—

“Are you all right?” Leandros asks, pulling away. “You seem distracted.”

All the years of practice with my previous lovers makes it easy to pretend. “You make it hard for me to think.”

He grins.

“You are too good for me,” I say. “How can you be so kind when I rejected you? Leandros, I’m so sorry. I never should have said no.”

He leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose. “Think nothing of it.

I knew you would see my merits eventually.”

I smile as my eyes catch sight of the window. The sun is beginning to set. “I have to go. He ordered me away before sunset.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t be gone long.”

I reach for what I can find. A small purse of money. My favorite jacket to protect me from the cold. “You saw how angry he was.”

“Give me some time to talk with him. You’ll be back at court, this time on my arm, in no time.”

I feel sick. No, just miserable. Kallias would never permit me back at court, and even if he did, I couldn’t bear it to be here and not with him. I

kissed Leandros, and for what? It didn’t make me feel better. It didn’t enrage Kallias. All it did was give Leandros false hope.

Perhaps not entirely false. I can’t go back to my father. He’ll probably throw me out just like I did to him at my ball. My best chance is to marry quickly. Perhaps I can persuade Leandros to make an offer for me and then keep me in his country estate.

“I will write to you,” I say.

“I will collect you,” he answers. “When it’s time.”

So optimistic. How does he manage it all the time? Surely it must be exhausting.