Page 36 of The Half King
She shook her head to clear it. “You didn’t.”
“Want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
Her first inclination was to say no. In all honesty, she wanted nothing more than to put it all behind her and lose her worries in the kennels. But then she reminded herself that Kian was trying to keep his promise to her. She still didn’t want to give him false hope, but he deserved to know what she and Daerick had learned. So she told him what they had been up to, even details about her visit to the soothsayer and the hidden antechamber in the catacombs. She didn’t mean to share quite so much, but Kian listened with such intensity, hanging on her every word, and when he watched her with those storm-cloud eyes, she couldn’t hold anything back.
“I came outside to visit the kennels,” she said when she had finished. “Animals make me feel at ease, and I need that today.”
The king was thoughtful for a moment, pushing back his dampened hair and staring into the grass. “So your path is a blank to Seers?”
“Well…yes. Or it diverges from what they’ve already Seen. That used to happen with the Reverend Mother.” Cerise hadn’t expected him to fixate on that part of the story, and she hoped he wouldn’t linger on it. She didn’t like keeping things from him, but she wasn’t ready to tell him about the revelation. Anyway, what was there to tell? Her involvement in the vision had clouded all of the details that could have helped them.
“Interesting,” was all he said. He retrieved a white linen shirt from the grass and put it on, the thin fabric clinging to the contours of his chest. He extended an elbow to her. “My lady, may I escort you to the kennels?”
She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she slid her arm through his. They began an easy stroll toward the gated fence that separated the paddock from the kennel. With each motion of their footsteps, the king’s muscled arm pressed against her and stirred a fluttering behind her navel. His nearness and his warmth unsettled her. The scent of him dizzied her senses. To distract herself, she cleared her throat and broached a new subject.
“Your Majesty, may I ask you an uncomfortable question?”
“That’s the best kind,” he told her.
“How many daylight hours do you lose?” She fixed her gaze straight ahead, afraid that direct eye contact would make him uneasy. “When Father Padron told me you keep to yourself during the day, I assumed you were trying to hide how far your curse has advanced.”
“You have good instincts,” Kian said. “Each day is different. Today I lost parts of only two hours. I meant to accompany Lady Champlain to your suite to convey my thanks, but…now you understand why I didn’t.”
“She didn’t tell me a thing about it. She kept your secret.”
“Lady Champlain is loyal to me.”
Now Cerise looked to him. She wanted to read his expression. “Is that why you’re protecting her?”
The king blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Lady Champlain mentioned to me that she became your courtesan to save herself. She wouldn’t tell me why, but don’t you think she’s in more danger now because of her closeness to you and the attempts on your life?”
The king didn’t seem to like hearing that. His lips flattened into a line.
“Oh, was that too uncomfortable a question?” she asked while playfully bumping his shoulder with hers. “I thought that was your favorite kind.”
Kian slid her an amused glance. “You’re right. I’ve been negligent in seeing to Lady Champlain’s safety, and I intend to correct that oversight now.”
“How so?”
“With the assistance of my high priest.”
They reached the gated fence, and while Kian unfastened the latch, Cerise peered behind them to look for a servant who could convey a message to Father Padron.
He noticed her search. “There’s no need to send a message to him,” Kian said as he opened the gate and swept a hand for her to enter the enclosure. “I can call for him myself. Watch this.” Turning his face toward the castle, Kian murmured, “Come to me, high priest,” and then he offered his elbow to Cerise again, and they resumed striding onward.
“You can summon him like that?” she asked.
The king’s devilish smile was answer enough. “He despises it.”
“Because priests exist to serve the goddess, not the whims of kings.”
“Obviously you’re wrong, or else your goddess wouldn’t allow it.”
“She’s your goddess, too,” Cerise told him. But though she didn’t say so, she couldn’t deny the truth in Kian’s argument. For whatever reason, the goddess had given him power over her priests to use in whatever way he chose. The bond of service made no sense. She wished she understood it.
Kian pushed open the kennel door and spurred a chorus of barking. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant, like our new litter of pups.”
