Page 154 of Shadow Queen
“You could have said ‘nothing’! Or just ‘mind your business’?”
“I know you,” he argued back. “When have you ever minded your business?”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t believe you, anyway.”
“You didn’t believe I’d kill you?”
She pursed her lips as she looked back at him. “I know you too.”
They quieted again.
“Why are you telling me this now?” she asked.
He looked out the window again. “Because you tell me you feel shame, for your thoughts, your intentions. I know shame too.”
“Why are you ashamed?”
“Because I think about him. Often.”
“Oh, Soren. You can’t be ashamed of that.”
“Neither can you, of wanting a child. At least your thoughts were driven with purpose. Mine are only for my own… selfishness.”
She stepped closer to him. “I don’t think you’re selfish at all.”
They stood, and their eyes quietly locked. She gave a small smile.
He stiffened. “Don’t hug me again.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she lied.
He snorted, obviously knowing her better, then he pulled up his wrap and covered his face again. “Now are we well?”
She couldn’t help another smile, and she nodded. “If I can just fix things with Mikael.”
“If he can’t look at you, it’s not you. It’s because he feels his own shame. You have to help him past it.”
She nodded again. “Thank you.”
Mikael sat alone in his study. Parchments covered the table: maps, letters, updates from his scouts and his army. And a letter from Japheth, again telling him Gregor wasn’t satisfied with the terms of their trade and sought to renegotiate. The king of Japheth puzzled him. He had resumed his normal trade shipments, to Mikael’s surprise. Now, Gregor invited him to Japheth, to resume negotiations of their contract.
Mikael had been to Japheth many times; it wasn’t an unusual invitation. And no doubt Gregor wanted to avoid returning to Kharav, to the North Queen who had served him his manhood on a platter. But the words on the parchment held a different air, and Mikael wondered if Gregor’s intention was truly to negotiate.
His eyes moved to the letter that had brought news of Aleon taking Tarsus—the island kingdom in the southern waters of the Atolean Sea. The ports of Tarsus hosted premier trading, where it never wintered, never stormed, and where only merchants of great merit were permitted. Tarsus was a wealthy kingdom, perhaps one of the wealthiest in the world. It was also fierce. Tarsen soldiers were renowned fighters, and they defended their island ruthlessly, drawing even Mikael’s respect. As large an empire as Aleon had become, it still surprised him they were able to take the island. And it worried him. Phillip’s grandfather had tried to claim Tarsus before and failed, but Phillip was forging ahead. Surely it was only a matter of time before he turned his eyes to Kharav, another kingdom that had eluded the empire’s grasp.
And a continued worry still plagued him—he and Salara remained without a child. He couldn’t deny the relief that came with Salara refusing Soren. He’d never been more grateful for anything in his life. He wouldn’t have been able to look at Soren after, tolerate his presence, although his commander wouldn’t have done anything wrong. Soren would have done what had been asked of him, andonlywhat had been asked of him. Guilt riddled him at the jealousy that reared itself with just the thought, and at his relief it hadn’t happened. It was a selfish relief. They needed a child. Without one, the nobles wouldn’t support Salara on the throne alone—not a queen of the North. Soren would protect her, but he was one man. He wouldn’t be able to keep her safe. Not completely. Of all Mikael’s burdens, this one was the heaviest. He gripped his forehead in his hand, leaning heavily on his elbow over his ash-wood desk. The candlelight flickered beside him.
“It’s late,” Salara’s voice said. He hadn’t heard her come in. He looked up to see her leaning against the doorframe. “Are you coming to bed soon?” she asked.
Bed. He longed for it and avoided it all the same. Why, he didn’t know. Perhaps because he felt like he was failing her. He wasn’t worthy of her. “I still have some things to do yet,” he said, turning his attention back to the work in front of him.
Norah reached up and loosened the ties of her nightgown, pulling it over her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. She stood naked and let his eyes run over her body. She was beautiful.
She stepped around the desk and stopped in front of him as he gazed up at her. She took his face in her hands. “I won’t wait any longer,” she whispered.
And he wouldn’t make her. “I’ll come to bed then,” he said softly. He moved to pile his parchments together.
But she stopped him, pulling his face back to her. “You don’t hear me. I won’t wait any longer.” She pushed him back and climbed on top of him in the chair, her knees on either side.
