Page 105 of City of Snakes
If I went through with this marriage—what would it be like?
How would he treat me once he had everything he longed for under that prophecy?
He seared me with his gaze, forearms flexed on the edge of the bath, a thin wall of stone between us.
I continued, “My father was a merciful ruler in public affairs. He did not extend that mercy to his wife.”
Krait’s brow furrowed as he focused on my mouth, seeming angry at it. “And did he extend that mercy to you?”
“I was his only child, the future of his kingdom,” I tried to justify.
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
I sighed. “He never hurt me the same way he hurt her. At some point, he accepted that I would need to rule—and that prevented him from leaving marks where others could see them.”
Krait’s fingertips dug into the smoothed tile. His mouth drew into a flat line. “That isn’t acceptable.”
“Acceptable or not, he felt it justified. My parents tried and failed for the son that my mother hadn’t given him first. Each year that went by without a male heir, my father resented us more. I was never blind to the fact that he treated my mother poorly. He’d always implied that she had done something to deserve it—that she let other men into her bed, that she was not worthy of my respect either.”
For a time, I believed him.
Until the night before her execution, when he’d claimed to have caught her with another man. I knew she hadn’t left her room because she had been there with me and Healer Mortag. I’d been sick, much like I’d just been. My mother had urged me not to share my physical ailments with my father, so I’d said nothing.
Krait licked a droplet of water from his lips, drawing my attention. Damn him. His stare hooked mine with such intensity that I kept rambling.
“I look so much like she did. There were times I wished I wasn’t hers. Maybe if I’d been his bastard, then he might have loved me as I did him.”
Krait let out a frustrated sigh. “Some men aren’t worthy of their daughter’s love. If he was incapable of loving you, then he was a damned fool, but you were never the problem.” He turned his gaze away from me and ran his hands through his soaked hair, seeming nervous. “You understand that, right?”
I nodded. “I know that now. He was ill for nearly a decade before dying. I used to wish that his death would come faster. But when he finally died, it was still a blow to realize that I hadno oneleft. My uncle wanted to crown one of his sons—Haward. So they, too, became my enemies.”
Standing taller, I unfurled my arms from where they’d instinctively wrapped around my top half in order to grip the pool’s edge.
I leveled a determined look in Krait’s direction. “I’ve been obsessed with securing the best alliances, leading me to agonize over every decision. It is particularly exhausting trying to convince every noble in your own court that you are better off alive. But I couldn’t fail. My father’s prophecies told of how Luz would fall, and I waited until the day came when Asterie wrote to me to act.”
Krait focused intently as I explained the prophecies I’d shown Asterie in the Luz crypts—the mad scribblings of my father’s final visions.
The Wastelands will be known to you…
He will rise and Death will reign…
War will be fought with shadows and light…
“Your father was an Oracle—was your mother also gifted with any Reverist abilities? Someone of Isleen’s blood would notonlybe an Oracle.”
“No. Just him.”
He hummed a response that was neither positive nor negative—a solid, comforting neutral that kept me talking.
“Hearing the thoughts of everyone around me helped me make calculated decisions and smooth over hard conversations. For a long time, my mind was just a useless cacophony until I figured out how to wield it.”
“Your mind is a beautiful thing.”
My brows rose at his words.
I expected him to be finished at that, but he continued, “And you are cunning and terrifyingly relentless.”
I scoffed. “Most men would not consider those good qualities.”
