Page 148 of Shadow Queen
He sighed. “Desperation makes men do things they wouldn’t otherwise dream of. And there are many sins of men, but wanting for a child isn’t one of them.” He looked up at the ceiling. He hadn’t made it easy for her. Guilt had never afflicted him, but he felt it now—guilt for his harshness and his cruelty, and despite that cruelty, she chose him still. For Mikael, and for Kharav.
“Am I a terrible person that I’d rather fight for the throne?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “It appears I’m the terrible person, that you’d rather go to war than take me to bed.”
She laughed through her tears and looked at him, and he was glad his jest lightened the air. Things settled between them. Thoughts and words came easier now.
“It’s not just that,” she said. “I imagine it wouldn’t be… too terrible to lie with you. Now that I know you.”
Not too terrible. He certainly hadn’t expected her lusting after him, but he had hoped himself a little more than not too terrible. But he deserved that, he supposed.
“And you look”—she tilted her head slightly as she eyed him—“quite nice. Now. Different from how you usually do.”
There was a compliment in there somewhere, he was sure.
“Anyway,” she continued, “there are many women who would readily take you to bed… or”—her brows drew together—“many not women, I mean, people other than women… if that’s what you wanted… you know what I’m trying to say, maybe. And it’s not that I couldn’t be with you. I trust you. You probably know that. I think. Maybe I told you”—she looked down at her hands again—“or maybe I didn’t, because you’re mean sometimes.”
As much as rambling annoyed him, he didn’t mind Salara’s rambling. He found this rambling amusing, with her under the same strain of awkwardness that had plagued him only moments ago.
Her face sobered again as she paused, and she drew her gaze back to his. “But I don’t just want any child. I want Mikael’s child. I love him.”
He grew serious again, too, and nodded. “I know.” There was no doubt in him.
She rose, and he did as well. He turned to go.
“Soren,” she said, stopping him. “Thank you. For not making me feel wrong, or humiliated.”
“I would never humiliate you, Salara,” he said. “And I’ll tell you when you’re wrong.”
She smiled as she wiped her cheeks again. “Would it be weird to hug you?” she asked.
“Yes—”
“I’m going to anyway,” she said as she stepped forward and snaked her arms around him.
He stiffened. This was the second embrace he’d endured lately, but surprisingly it was… nice. Not natural, or something that he’d want again, but warm and real and right. This vile creature—worming her way into his heart. He rumbled his protest, but slowly brought his arm around her and hugged her back.
They broke, and he straightened. She smiled up at him.
He hesitated before asking, “Should I wait here with you?” Why she would want that, he didn’t know, but it seemed to be what he should say.
She shook her head. She just wanted him gone, and he understood. So he nodded and left her to the quiet.
Norah lay under the bed coverlet in the hillside house, winding strands of hair around her finger. She had come here filled with shame and guilt, but Soren didn’t make her feel either of those things. He made her feel strong. And right again.
The door of the chamber opened and closed.
Mikael climbed into bed beside her and slipped his arm underneath her, sidling up and pulling her close. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.
She nodded. “Yes.” She was all right. More than all right.
He let out an uneasy breath. “Soren told me…” His words dropped off.
She turned to face him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t, I—”
“Don’t. You’ve nothing to be sorry about. Never have I been so relieved.” His fingers curled around the nape of her neck, and he pulled her closer. “I should have never…”
A silence sat between them, then he asked, “Was he… unkind?”
