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“I’m glad to see you up and about.” Her eyes dart over my shoulder, and her smile widens. “And that you’ve had breakfast.”
“Thank you for seeing to that.”
“It wasn’t me,” Kaia assures me. “The staff think very highly of you, and they were concerned when they didn’t see you in the dining room.”
That news surprises me. I wasn’t aware any of the servants thought of me at all, let alone enough to worry I wasn’t being fed.
“May I come in?”
I step back and Kaia breezes past, followed by her usual faint scent of lavender and rosemary. Her skirts rustle with her movement, the glittering overskirt catching in the dancing candlelight.
She settles on one of the chairs across from the couch, folding her hands in her lap. I suddenly feel underdressed and unkempt. Tugging on the sleeves of the dressing gown, I smooth a hand over my hair and reclaim my seat.
I reach for my teacup, pausing as I consider. “Would you like some tea?”
Kaia smiles again. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
I add some tea to the porcelain cup Kaia conjures and hand it to her, watching as she drops in two sugar cubes and swirls her finger over the surface to stir it. I doubt it will ever be any less jarring to watch the gods use their powers. If I had my way, I’d never keep company with a god again.
“I’m sorry, Elora,” Kaia says, lowering her cup to her lap after taking a careful sip.
“Sorry for what?”
She plucks at a fold in her skirt, smoothing it with her fingertips. “For the time you must spend here.”
“It might be easier to stomach if someone would tell me why.” She purses her lips, and I set my cup back on the tray with a loud clatter. “Or how long I might be held against my will.”
She flinches at that, and I allow a bead of satisfaction to bubble up. I’ve known Kaia wanted to keep me here as much as Thieran does, and now I know, at least on some level, she feels guilty about it. It’s not much of a consolation, but it’s something.
“I wish I could give you more answers.” Her gaze slides to mine, and her smile is apologetic. “But I can’t. I hardly understand it myself. Only that…”
Her words trail off, like she’s weighing how much to share and how much to keep from me. She shakes her head. Decision made.
“It isn’t so bad here, is it?”
There’s a note of hope in her voice, but her face falls when I snort. I might like Kaia, and I might appreciate how kind she’s been to me, but I won’t let her paint a pretty picture over this.
“It would be better if I weren’t a prisoner.”
Or in such close proximity to the god who refuses to stop invading my thoughts.
“I want to make you smile, Elora. You like to read, don’t you?” she continues before I can remind her my freedom would give her the kind of genuine smile she wants. “I don’t think you’ve found the library yet. You’ve been so focused on exploring beyond the palace.”
She quirks a brow, and a mischievous look comes into her eyes that makes me wonder if, in some small way, Kaia approves of my escape attempt. Or can at least respect it.
“It’s quite large, the library,” she says in an effort to convince me. “Plenty of things to choose from.”
I imagine the God of Death doesn’t just stock his library with novels about women falling in love and having adventures in far-off lands. No doubt he has books about history and gods and rituals and the power used by both in there. And those I can use just as much as the entertainment of a good novel.
“That sounds nice. Let me—”
I’m interrupted by another knock, and when I don’t immediately rise to answer it, Kaia pushes up from her chair and crosses the room. It could be Nevon; he tried to call yesterday and entice me to take a walk with him. I should have taken him up on it, but I was too busy sulking. Today, though, I’ll say yes in a heartbeat and make sure I lay my flirting on thick.
But it isn’t Nevon’s face revealed when the door swings in. It’s Thieran, and I make a noise of disgust in the back of my throat. He has the nerve to smirk at me, his eyes traveling over my body from head to toe and making me acutely aware for the first time how thin this dressing gown is.
“Get dressed,” he commands. “I have a surprise for you.”
So sure I’ll obey, he turns from the door in a swirl of robes, and something about his tone and his order and his mere presence makes me bristle.
