Page 143 of Shadow Queen
“You made Lord Aman a Provision Promise for Adrian?” she asked. “And endorsed the marriage with your own seal?” She had planned to ramp up to the question, but it just poured from her lips.
Soren shifted in surprise, but he didn’t answer.
“Why would you do that?” she asked. “That’s a big obligation.”
“It’s what was required,” Soren said absently.
She frowned. “This will upset Alexander. He’ll see this as his responsibility. Incentive for you, I’m sure.”
“Itishis responsibility,” he growled back. “But the Bear doesn’t need to know. Even the boy doesn’t know.”
Her eyes widened. “You should have told him.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“Why not?”
His nostrils flared as he glowered at her. “Because no matter how much he loves that girl, no matter how much trouble he’s facing, he’ll put his brother’s feelings first.”
Norah sighed, and her stomach knotted. “If Alexander finds out—”
“He won’t,” he snapped. “But if he does, then you’ll say you didn’t know.”
Norah sat quietly as Vitalia brushed the braids out of her hair. She looked at herself in the vanity mirror, at her tired eyes and her worry-worn face. “I think I should like to be alone for a while,” she whispered.
“Yes, Salara,” Vitalia said, giving her a small smile and setting the hairbrush on the vanity. Then she bowed her head and left the chamber.
Norah gathered her hair to the side and gently pulled the brush through it. It fell in winding ripples from the press of the braids. Her eyes moved over her reflection. How pale she was in comparison to the people of Kharav. Perhaps even more pale with what weighed on her mind.
The chamber door opened and then closed. She waited.
Mikael stepped around the linen panels, coming up behind her. He traced his fingers over the bareness of her neck, prickling her skin.
She put the brush down. “There’s only one,” she said faintly.
His puzzled gaze caught hers in the mirror. “Only one of what?”
“Only one who can be trusted with a secret that could break a kingdom.”
He paused a moment, then spread his hand across her skin and gripped her shoulder. “What are you saying?”
“You know what I’m saying. Only one can be trusted. And would a son of Soren not pass for your own? Are you not like brothers—large build and black hair, the shape of your face?”
“Salara,” Mikael whispered. “No.”
She felt the breath leave her lungs, and she struggled to draw it in again. She hadn’t yet said it aloud, and it struck her like a blow to the stomach.
Mikael turned her in the chair toward him and dropped to his knees, bringing them eye to eye. He clasped her hands and brought them to his lips. “It was wrong of me to ask this of you,” he said.
She cupped his face in her hand. “You need an heir.Weneed an heir.” She looked into his eyes. “We need a child.”
Emotion etched across his face. He bared his teeth against her hands, silent. He shook his head again. “It doesn’t have to be Soren.” He paused, then his voice came hoarse as he grimaced. “The Bear?”
She saw the pain in his eyes as he looked up to her, and she caressed his face with her hand. “No. A child between us, as your son, it would destroy him. And you. Let alone a fair-haired child would raise questions. It has to be Soren.”
“And that would destroy you,” he said softly.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not the one he desires, and he wouldn’t take pleasure in our desperation.”
