The veil meant to conceal my true face was gone.
Chapter 25
Here and Intact One Moment, Shattered and Gone the Next
Alobaz had detested every second Terencia’s eyes crawled over him. Their lingering examination of his body had felt like insects he couldn’t brush off. Now that her attention had turned to Velle, however, he was wrestling with the urge to jump in front of his temptress and draw Terencia’s gaze back to him instead. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to her ogling. For decades now, practically since the child-bride had bloomed into womanhood, she’d been doing her damnedest to lure him into her bed. All it would have taken was a threat to his friends’ well-being and he would have succumbed. Until today, Baz had succeeded in keeping them out of it.
He should have never allowed Lev and Moncho to come to her in his place. While he was at it, he should have never let Crute live at the castle. He had recognized the boy’s hero worship for the farce it was. He was nobody’s hero. Terencia might have been the one who had gone too far and drained him of all his blood, but the boy had been all but dead the moment he’d indulged his request to return home with them. Crute was a corpse because of his weakness, his unforgivable sins.
At least Lev and Moncho would recover. Or their bodies would anyway. They weren’t human like the dead men were, as fragile as spun glass, here one moment, shattered and gone the next.
Terencia’s tongue darted out to lick her lips, no doubt tasting the blood, male-seed, and pudding she must have had someone rub all over her—so distasteful. She reminded him of a serpunta, though far more dangerous than any of the changelings he’d ever met. She alone pointed the head of the emperor whichever direction she chose, and Junot was too arrogant to note the degree of her influence.
“Who is she, Alobaz? You’ve made me wait long enough. I won’t wait any longer for you to offer up the information.”
Even her dulcet voice, objectively pleasant, grated on him.
Terencia stood abruptly, without swaying, and set down her half-drained goblet of blood—human, from the scent of it. It was as he’d suspected. Despite appearances, she’d never truly lost her faculties. The woman never relinquished control.
Wraiths, or perhaps trapped essences or some other terrifying things that Baz had never seen before, had been trying to break through the floor to reach her. Now they lurched toward her, straining at the floor’s boundary, but she didn’t deign to glance down. Instead, padding quietly on bare feet, she prowled slowly toward him and Velle. He willed her to slip on the slick floor, but of course she didn’t. Every move she made was measured.
“Did you take her to your bed?” The question was pitched to be casual, but Baz knew better. Terencia had no claim over him beyond being his stepmother, yet she’d conjured a sense of possession over him.
Opalesians believed Junot was the most dangerous person in the world. They were very wrong. The empress was just as lethal and much less reasonable.
It was impossible to lie to Terencia, a highly inconvenient detail of her magic, the extent of which not even Baz was familiar with. So Baz had to craft his replies with utmost care. While he yearned to tell her that it was none of her damn business whether or not he’d taken Velle to his bed, he settled for being grateful that Velle had only been in his bed once, and he hadn’t been the one to put her there.
“No, Stepmother?—”
“Mother.”
“No … Empress Mother, I did not take her to my bed.” She’d climbed into it of her own free will while he was unconscious.
No, Baz, nothing Velle does is of her own free will, remember? You have her collared and bound to you. She’s your prisoner. Isn’t that what you tell her?
Satisfaction rippled across Terencia’s face as she stalked closer. Baz’s muscles were actually twitching with the need to protect Velle from her. He hoped Terencia wouldn’t notice. If she knew he cared … well, it wouldn’t end well for any of them.
“It’s fortunate she’s scarred, or I’d have to mark her myself. No one in my empire is allowed to be prettier than I.”
When Baz said nothing, she barked, “Well?”
“Yes, Empress Mother.”
“Yes, Empress Mother,” she mimicked in a whine. “You can do better than that. I know you can. You’re quite interesting when you allow yourself to be.”
“Thank you, Empress Mother.”
Her eyes glinted maliciously—when shrill cries erupted from another part of the castle.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Screams.”
She half tsked, half growled, and Baz understood he couldn’t evade her again, or someone would pay the price—and it was never him, especially not when he wanted it to be himself.
Terencia glowered at him, in no way diminished by her nudity. Attached to a different personality, he would consider her body feminine and appealing. She loved to flaunt her nakedness around him. He worked not to look. Even so, he couldn’t help but note that her nipples were pink and pert.
He trained his eyes on hers. “I would guess the screams are coming from the sitting room. It’s where we last saw your nobles.”