Page 40 of Ruby Red Sky

She glanced at Kiam and I gestured for him to stand. “Bring her to her room and return. We have things to discuss. Namely, what you were doing courting Annalise from Wyvon’s throne.”

* * *

“I think Cassia’s bored,” Kiam stated, returning to my office. “And I’m not a babysitter.”

A while back, he’d suggested that I date her. It wasn’t a terrible idea—if I could find the time to do so. “That may very well be,” I admitted.

“Are you going to let Katarina go? They removed a couple of her fingernails, but she can still work with Cassia. I only spotted two missing.”

If I let her remain unpunished, it sent a message of leniency I couldn’t afford. However, I could engineer her sentencing so that she survived largely intact. “Maybe,” I replied.

“While you sit there brooding, I’ll tell you what me and Annalise discussed. What she confided in me.” He waited for me to meet his gaze. “She gave birth once.”

That was the last thing I expected to hear. Not once had I ever seen her pregnant, but she was vain enough to remain in seclusion for the gestational period.

“Who does she think the father is?” I asked.

It couldn’t be Wyvon. He may be her husband and King, but neither had desired to wed the other. It was simply a strategic pairing. There was no meeting of souls, no love. They weren’t mates and they should barely be considered partners. They never lived together.

The joining of the two was an aberration as vampires were traditionally loyal and faithful. Knowing Annalise, whoever had sired her spawn would be a vampire of renown. The idea was both fascinating and disturbing.

He shook his head and placed his glass down. “She didn’t say. She didn’t say much about it at all.”

“And this came up because why? Because she’d told Cassia she’d never get pregnant?”

“I believe so. I was asking her general questions about life here, and she filled me in a bit before dropping that bomb. She’d didn’t extrapolate on the subject, but she mentioned that she wondered what had become of him.”

“Him,” I repeated. If I knew our Queen at all, I knew this meant she was going to search for this boy, or man. “How long ago did she give birth?”

Kiam stood and folded his hands together behind his back. He strolled over to a bookshelf and eyed the titles.

“She’s not easy to read, not even for me. I could get past some of her barriers, but she’s the strongest I’ve ever met. I’m not sure she was aware, but she instinctively closed every open door in her mind while I searched. But some, I got there before she could.”

He turned around, one corner of his mouth lifting. “My best guess would be approximately three hundred years ago. Perhaps up to five. Most likely somewhere in between.”

The man was a very useful friend. “She is going to send someone to look for him.”

“Possibly me,” he said.

“I need you here.”

“You need to pay attention to Cassia. Do something other than pin her to your office wall.”

He pursed his lips and glanced at the door. “Take her out or something. Reward her for good behavior. She’ll start acting against you if you keep this up.”

An unfamiliar heavy weight landed in my chest. I didn’t want Cassia to take steps to thwart me. What I’d envisioned wasn’t anything like that. I pictured spending time with her, dining with—and on, her. Sleeping beside her and protecting her, keeping her close.

I was doing an abominable job moving things in that direction.

Chair legs scraped the floor as I got up. “You’re right. I’ll see to Katarina as well.”

I’d figure something out. I had to for both our sake. “Do not leave this Realm, or the kingdom, without talking to me first.”

Kiam walked through the door as I held it open, leaving first. He didn’t look back, striding down the hall. I turned the other way, heading to the lower levels.

The basement of the castle was much as one would expect. Flickering torches lit themselves as I passed, throwing an orange hue along the corridor's ceiling. The faint sound of dripping water and the pungent taste of fear hung in the air, buoyed by the sharp, spicy flavor of misery. Roughhewn walls, the chisel marks visible and bordered with punishing edges funneled me into a cavernous space.

The area was five stories tall with balconied walkways well-traveled by many guards over thousands of years. The energy signatures of countless prisoners had embedded into the walls deep enough to never be extracted from the granite. The effect on the senses was almost enough to never have to lay a hand on a single inmate. Breathing the air was a punishment.