“How is it that you’re able to touch that sword but not me?”
Can he not be touched by living things? That would make consummating a marriage very difficult, indeed. But then, I felt the pressure of his glove against my cheek …
In the span of a blink, the shadows disappear. All that is left is Kallias. Real, human. Corporeal. Touchable.
Beautiful.
In another blink, he’s back to being surrounded by shadow.
“I can turn the ability on and off,” he says. “I can force my fingers to solidify in order to pick something up, while the rest of me remains intangible.”
“But why the law?” I ask. “If no one can hurt you, why forbid people from touching you? Why bother with gloves? Does that pain you? To touch someone skin to skin?”
“It does not pain me to touch anyone. Unless they’re maiming me in some way.”
Then why? I want to scream. Why push everyone away? Why isolate himself from everyone? Why live alone and untouched?
“If I were to touch someone skin to skin when I’m not in my shadow form, my ability would go away whenever I’m in their presence. I would be corporeal anytime they were around. I would be susceptible to death and pain and all else. My father lived to be over three hundred years old. A long and lonely life until he decided to marry my mother. Then he was mortal. She was the anchor keeping him grounded. And anyone could assassinate him while my mother was near.
“And they did,” he finishes. “Falling in love is what got him killed. Now you see why I wish to appease the council without actually fulfilling their wishes. Someone killed my parents, and they will do the same to me if I let myself get close to anyone. Sometimes I even wonder if my brother’s death wasn’t an accident.”
I dare not say anything, for fear he’ll stop confiding in me.
“He wasn’t like me, you see,” Kallias says. “The ability passes from parent to child. But my brother, Xanthos? He didn’t get the ability. I believe that’s why he died so young. Someone wanted to take him out of the line of succession. My father was much more protected. It took longer to find a way to end him.”
I can hardly believe he’s trusting me with so much. But I also can’t help but wonder if this is some sort of test.
I say, “When you barged into my room that night, you wanted to know exactly what I’d said. Because if people thought we were touching—”
“They’d come after me,” he finishes. “And I’d have to be ever on alert.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask. “Are you sure you’re not going to kill me?”
“You were right, Alessandra. Last night. All of those things you said. I’ve been afraid to truly live. Being with you outside of closely observed mealtimes makes me vulnerable. If someone learns my secret, if we were to accidentally touch—I could be killed.
“But that’s no way to live. I may not be allowed to ever have someone physically close to me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t let you in. I … like you, and I hope that you could like me, too.”
Something in me … softens. There’s something about looking on this dark, powerful man and hearing his hopes for us. It makes me want to make those hopes become real.
Right before I end his life, of course.
“So you’re taking me…?” I ask.
“To one of my favorite spots. We’re spending time together. Outside the palace. And not because it will further convince the council of our courtship, although that is a benefit. We’re doing it because we’re friends, and you deserve some real fun.”
“Last night was fun.”
“Some fun with me,” he clarifies, his jaw setting. “No more nights with Leandros.”
I raise a brow.
“I’m trying to compromise. I’m spending time with you, and we can’t have the council finding out you’re sharing your favor with more than one man.”
“Fine,” I say. “But I reserve the right to see whomever I wish if you start behaving like an ass again.”
Sometimes I wonder if it’s just a matter of time before I go too far. Before I say something to finally push him over the edge and get rid of me for good.
But I’ve found that during all our conversations, I haven’t had to pretend. When I say things, it’s because I truly feel and think that way. I may be trying to win the heart of a king, but …
I’m still being myself.
That’s never happened before with a mark.
“That’s fair,” he says.
I reward him with the most charming smile I can find, and it isn’t faked in the least.
“Do you think I could sit next to you?” I ask. “So I don’t fall out of my seat again? The incline is steep.”
He scoots to one side of the plush cushion in answer. I settle next to him, only my skirts brushing his shadows.
“Much better. Thank you.”
CHAPTER
15
When the carriage rolls to a stop, the driver climbs down from his perch and opens the door for me, holding out an arm to help me down the single step. Today’s overskirt is thin, a green assortment with fabric that glitters in the sun. The pants beneath are fitted and dotted with gathered black fabric in the imitation of flower petals.
“I never got a chance to compliment you on your attire.”
“This is one of the few outfits I haven’t worn yet. I was angry at you and didn’t want to wear your favorite color.”
“But then you wore it anyway?”
“I thought it might make you angrier when you were forced to watch me leave with all my things.”
He smiles. “It would have.” He turns to the driver. “Go for a walk. We won’t need your assistance for some time. We’ll return when we’re ready.”
The driver nods before heading for a trail to the left of the carriage. It disappears into a cover of trees. Kallias retrieves his rapier from the carriage and ties it to his belt. Then he grabs a large woven basket from atop the carriage.
“This way,” he says.
As he grasps the basket in one hand, the reeds suddenly fade, the shadows eating them up, until the whole thing is just as encased in them as the king is.
“When you touch something, it becomes intangible with you?” I ask.
“I have to grasp it with a corporeal hand. Then when I turn to shadow, the object will turn with me. A blessing,” he adds. “Else the court would have quite a stirring when my clothes fell right through me.”
I can’t help but laugh lightly at that.
The grass is soft and silent beneath my feet as Kallias leads me in the opposite direction of the driver. The ground rolls up and down with the hills. I’m grateful for my pant-clad legs and the sturdier boots I happened to don today.
“Aren’t you worried about being alone up here?” I ask.
“Why would I be? I can’t be hurt.”
“But I can.”
“Don’t worry. Several riders followed us at a discreet distance. We took a plain carriage instead of the royal carriage. My men are roaming the edges of this spot. Out of sight. Besides, no one travels this way unless they’re trying to cross the pass into another kingdom, and why would they do that? Invaders can’t make it through to our end because there are men stationed on the other side of the mountain.
“I don’t wear this sword just for looks,” he adds. “I do know how to use it. Rest assured, the only dangerous thing out here is me.”
“And should I fear you?” I ask.
“Never.”
Over the next rise, I spot a large oak tree, the branches providing a lovely shade from the warm air. A few dozen feet away, a lake rests, ripples forming from bugs dancing on the water’s surface or a fish making a brief appearance.
A field of daffodils surrounds us, the golden petals swaying in the breeze, coloring the whole place in what would make a perfect painting.
It’s giving me ideas for dress designs. Next time we come here, I’ll have to bring a sketchbook.
Fr
om the basket, Kallias removes a red-and-white-checkered blanket, spreading it beneath the shade of the tree. He settles his lean body atop it, crossing his legs beneath him before rummaging through the other contents.
I settle down next to him. Close, but not close enough to touch.
“It’s beautiful here,” I say.
“My mother used to sneak Xanthos and me out here as boys. We’d play in the mud, catch frogs, pick the flowers. She was never too busy for us, despite being a queen.”
“She sounds like fun.”
“She was. I … miss her.” He sweeps his eyes over the daffodils. “She loved flowers. To this day, the groundskeepers take extra measures to maintain her flower gardens outside the palace.”
He’s finally opening up. This is exactly what I need to draw us closer.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I lost my mother, too. I was eleven when illness took her. For some reason, I barely remember her. Mostly I remember my governess. I didn’t see my mother often. Father loved her deeply, and I can’t stand my father. So I wonder if maybe I wouldn’t have liked her if I had known her well … I’m so sorry you lost yours.”
“Thank you.” He lets out a breath. “But I didn’t bring you here to talk about such dreary things. We’re here to eat.” He waves a hand over all the food he has laid out before us.
There’s enough to feed twenty people. I spot at least five different kinds of sandwiches, from cucumber to shredded pork. Strawberries with the stems cut off and some sort of chocolate sauce for dipping. Chicken legs spiced with rosemary. Leafy greens shredded with tomatoes and carrots. Clusters of grapes.
My mouth waters at the sight of it all.
Kallias and I enjoy our food, and this time he listens carefully as I give him blow-by-blow details of last night. I’m proud of the bets I won. I find myself wanting to tell him how I learned the tics of those around me and used it to my advantage.
“You sound like you’d be an excellent general. Perhaps I should fire Kaiser and hire you instead.”
I lick chocolate sauce from my fingers. “I’m afraid I have no knowledge of weaponry. Though I do always carry a dagger on me.”
The one I used to kill Hektor.
“That’s good. One must always be prepared for the unforeseeable.” He leans back, enjoying a full stomach, and the two of us just relish in being alone. Being free of the palace. Free of responsibility in this beautiful place.
“I wish I would have thought to pack us swimwear. The water is so refreshing this time of year,” he says.
“Who says we need suits?” I ask.
“Your outfit is constricting, and the overskirt would consume water like a sponge to drown you.”
“I hadn’t meant for us to keep our clothes on.” The words are out before I realize they might be too forward.
Kallias turns to me, a wicked grin on his face. “Why, Lady Alessandra, the more I learn about you, the more I like you.”
He stands, grabs the neckline at the back of his cotton shirt, and pulls it off in one movement. He looks down at me, calling my bluff, daring me to undress.
I’m only distracted for a moment by the expanse of muscles visible on his chest. They were hidden so well under that loose shirt. Under the layers of vests and waistcoats he’s usually to be found in.
But now he’s on display, and I decide it’s his best look.
I keep my eyes on his as I undo the buttons on my overskirt. Once undone, I shrug off the garment, so I’m clad only in those pants and a tight, sleeveless blouse.
“Your guards?” I ask.
“They’re out of sight,” he says, his voice growing deeper with each word. Then, as though it takes him great effort, he turns around.
Turns around.
What the devils?
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m waiting for my friend to undress and get in the water.”
Oh, is that how it’s going to be?
Is that the truth of things between us, or is Kallias trying to force that distinction on our relationship?
Making as much noise as I possibly can, I shrug out of my boots and pants, slip off my blouse and underthings, and then I approach the water, wondering if His Majesty will peek. If it’s just an act or if he thinks to catch me unawares.
He doesn’t even fidget.
The Shadow King is such a spoilsport.
The water is cold at first, but after a few seconds, I grow used to it, daring to go deeper and deeper, until all the important parts are covered.
“I’m in,” I tell him.
He turns around and makes a twirling motion with his finger. My turn to look away while he removes the rest of his clothing.
My toes dig into the smooth mud as I face the other direction. I keep my thoughts away from all the critters living in the lake and instead try to imagine what Kallias looks like naked. All that bronze skin and lean muscle.
I’m so lost in thought that I jump when I hear steps behind me.
“You can look now,” he says.
The water is so murky, I could stand right in front of Kallias and not see anything under the water.
More’s the pity.
He said he couldn’t touch. He said nothing about looking. So why should he wish to avert his gaze? And why the hell did he force me to turn around?
Suddenly put out, I hurry to think of something to say before our outing turns awkward.
“Do the shadows make it easier to float?” I ask him.
“Yes, actually.”
He’s only up to his waist, giving me a nice view of his torso. There’s not a mark on him. Not a scar or freckle in sight. How? How is he so perfect?
A silence builds, as we both think about the obvious. We’re naked. In a lake. Doing nothing untoward.
How is this my life right now?
I need to say something else. But all of the topics racing through my mind are terribly inappropriate.
“Are you a virgin?” I ask.
Well done, Alessandra.
But he seems beyond amused by the question. “No. Are you?”
I should say yes. A lady’s entire reputation hinges on that fact, as I well know. But the way he asks, in earnest, I can’t help but wonder …
“Would it matter if I wasn’t?” I dare to ask.
“Not at all,” he says immediately.
My lips part. “But it’s practically an unspoken law that ladies must be virgins on their wedding nights.”
“It’s no law of mine. In fact, I’ve made a point of doing my best to give ladies the same rights as men. It’s what my mother would have wanted. And besides, how can men expect all the ladies to remain virgins while they don’t? The numbers don’t add up.”
He’s serious. All this time I worried about Myron ruining things, when I needn’t have bothered at all.
First thing when we get back, I’m calling in his debts.
“No,” I say at last. “I’m not a virgin.” Then I hurry to add, “So you permit yourself to touch people after all, then?”
“I used to. Before I was king.”
“And the ladies in question are not around to counteract your ability?”
“When I was younger,” he explains, “I paid handsomely for the attentions of women. Courtesans, mostly, who I then gave small fortunes to so they could start their lives over in one of the other five kingdoms.”
“That’s … smart,” I tell him.
He looks down at the water, watching droplets fall from his fingers. “I almost wish I hadn’t. Then I would never know what I was missing.”
Perhaps I should be sympathetic. Instead, I ask, “You’ve been celibate for an entire year?”
“Yes.”
“And you plan to remain celibate?” There might be unnecessary pauses between each of the words, but I can’t help it. “Surely it’s not worth it?”
He shrugs. “I am the most powerful man in the world, and I will live forever. I imagine men would give up a lot more for i
mmortality alone.”
Hmm. What would I give up for such power?
I suppose it doesn’t matter. All I have to do is invest my time. There’s nothing I have to give up.
“Where did this shadow ability originate?” I ask.
“My family has been ruling since the dawn of time, or so I’ve been told. One of my ancestors—his name was Bachnamon—struggled to maintain his throne. Many attempts were made on his life. His own cousin tried to usurp him.
“He prayed to the gods for help first. The god of strength. The god of wisdom. The god of justice. He asked for the strength to maintain his power, to be strong enough to destroy his enemies. He wanted his line to remain in power forever. None answered.
“So he prayed to the devils next. The devil of suffering. The devil of vengeance. The devil of pain. The last one answered. Bachnamon was granted the power of the shadows. He was invulnerable to death and pain so long as he remained in his shadow form. But because the ability was gifted by a devil, it was not without its price. He was granted immortality, so long as he spent most of his days in shadow. But if he didn’t, the ability would be passed on to his children.”
I stand there, digesting that all for a moment while watching tendrils of shadow snake up his arms.
I look up to his eyes, only to find him watching a drop of water slide down my shoulder.
He coughs. “Now it’s my turn for questions. Tell me of the men lucky enough to receive your favors. Was there more than one?” And then his voice changes. “Do you have a beau waiting for you now?”
The question seems to dawn on him with horror.
“I have no one right now. But as I said, I grew up receiving little attention from my family. So I sought it elsewhere.”
“Oh, Alessandra. If only I’d known you sooner. I would never ignore you.”
“Such a gallant king.”
“How many men?” he wants to know.
Dozens.
Instead of answering, I shoot back, “How many women?”
Somehow, I think our answers might be similar.
“All right. Keep your answer, and I’ll keep mine,” he says.
“Fair enough. Now may I swim?”
The Shadows Between Us Page 14
