Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Anash

Zenith is cute when he sleeps.

Well, he's cute all the time, but especially when he sleeps. The steadfast determination that's ever-present has slipped away, leaving relaxed lips, twin black crescents of eyelashes fanned across tan skin, bristled high cheeks, and gently fluttering lids. He's dreaming. I wonder what about.

He was fast asleep when I woke early to work on some correspondence for Princess Suvi. I finish my letters and think of crawling back into bed, but I don't want to disturb him.

My stomach growls. I didn't eat very much last night. I get dressed in just enough clothes to be decent and tiptoe toward the door, then think better of this plan. With a sigh, I add more clothes to actually look princely and, thus armored, leave the room to collect us some breakfast while Zenith enjoys dreamland.

Yesterday's tour comes in handy. I know exactly where to find the kitchens. Across the hall, down the stairs, through the great room, all done in the same gleaming gold over matte black. This house gives me the creepy-crawlies.

But the kitchen is light and airy, having been spared the gaudy decor in favor of vented windows and plain white plaster.

As I'd thought, everyone here is hustling and bustling as though they've been awake for hours and it isn't the crack of dawn.

Human servants bow skittishly, and each glances at the others with shocked faces. Probably not used to seeing anyone of high rank in their space.

"Good morrow." I smile. I hate seeing them so ill at ease. "My apologies for disturbing your normal schedule, but could I perhaps take some food to my room? A light breakfast for myself and the general."

No one talks to me directly, but polite mutterings of "yes, yes, of course" are aimed at the floor. The lot of them scurry around to fulfill my request.

They pile so much onto a gleaming silver platter it will be a task to carry the heavy load unaided. I hold in a chuckle, thanking them, even as I carefully return half the contents to their counter.

"This will do nicely, thank you." I'm not sure who's more relieved when I go, them or me.

This place is nothing like my home back in Tierney. There, I know everyone by name, and the kitchen staff teases me relentlessly for my sweet tooth rather than hide their faces as if they didn't want to be recognized.

How must Warner treat them for them to behave so oddly?

I shake off the uncomfortable encounter and shoulder open our door, balancing the tray in my hands.

Zenith is awake and dressed. He stands over the oval table I've been using as a desk, holding one of my letters close to his face and squinting.

Dread washes over me.

"What's this?" he asks. He doesn't sound mad. "Why are you writing in two codes?"

My insides twist so hard I'm afraid they'll soon be outsides. "Oh, that's nothing. Don't worry about it. I brought us breakfast in bed."

"And who is Rahz?"

"You have to be in the bed for the breakfast in bed part to work."

He sets the letter down. "I find I'm not as hungry as I am curious."

"Oh."

"Anash, what's going on?"

My hands tremble, rattling the plates on the silver. Zenith comes to take it from me, but I panic. The tray and everything on it clatters to the floor. Milk soaks a cloudy cream spot across the purple rug.

I stare stupidly at the mess while Zenith cleans it up, salvaging several covered dishes.

He places what remains on the table next to my crimes. "I don't understand. Won't you tell me what's wrong?"

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. "This isn't how you were supposed to find out."

That hardens his gaze. "Find out what?"

"Maybe we should sit down."

"Maybe you should start talking," he says, but he does usher me into the wooden chair with gentle hands. He drags the other chair close so we're knee to knee, eye to eye.

"I never wanted to keep secrets from you."

"Then don't."

It can't be that simple. A deep breath does nothing to ease my rankled nerves. My fear. "Promise me we'll be all right."

The hurt swelling in his eyes hammers my heart. "Anash, I can only promise I yearn for a future with you. But I don't know what you're hiding until you reveal it. Whatever it is, I'll try to make things right. I'll listen."

He's a better man than me. That's more assurance than I had any right to hope for. I drudge up my waning courage and meet his gaze.

"I don't want us to win this war, and neither should you."

Silence bloats in the space between us. I rush to fill it. "Luminia hasn't been a fair and just realm in centuries. Perhaps it never was. The minority rules the majority, but worse than that, they rule with cruelty."

Zenith's stare could topple mountains, but true to his word, he listens.

"Humans and halflings are used for their labor. Without their farmers, their artisans, their cooks, their merchants, and their seamstresses, the fae would cease to function. And yet those whose work affords us such grand lives are poorly compensated for their efforts. They suffer. From hunger, sickness, death. Especially humans. You saw how weak they are compared to us. How easily they fall. And yet they fight. Because someone must. Luminia cannot stay such as it is forever. The time for change is upon us."

"You, a prince of the realm"—Zeniths stiffens—"are a rebel."

I hadn't seen myself as such, but I suppose it's true. "I only want to help." Should I say the next part? I feel I must, yet I fear giving away confidants. My family. If Zenith takes this poorly, if he abandons me and uses my truth against me, they'll be in danger too. And it will be my fault.

But my mate, my beloved, my steady gargoyle Zenith. If I don't trust him now, then when? I won't ask him to tolerate more secrets. I can't.

"I'm not the only one."

"Who else?" The zeal with which he asks startles me. Fear creeps its roving tendrils through my chest. "Anash, who else?"

"When I tell you, the names must remain between us. You mustn't tell Queen Aurielle. It'll only make things worse."

He's leaned back against his chair, as far away from me as the parameters he set for this conversation will allow. His mouth is pressed into a tight line. His brows drawn. He's never looked at me with this expression. I hate it. "You'll tell me, or you won't. What I do with the information is mine to decide."

His words stab the breath from my chest, but I can't back down now. "Please." Tears threaten, clouding my vision. I stare at my feet, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. I should have done this sooner. Slower. Warmed him up to it. It's too much at once.

My voice cracks. "My mother. My sister. Princess Suvi. We want a better world. For everyone." I choke on my words. "No one had to die."

"The princess?" He sounds stunned.

I nod, my eyes on the floor. "If given the chance, she will make an extraordinary queen. I know it."

"And Rahz? Who's he?"

Oh, Zenith is going to hate this answer. I steel myself for the worst. "The fire mage."

A low growl rumbles in his chest. He holds it back from becoming a roar.

"I'm sorry. He's caused you an incredible amount of trouble. But he's only trying to buy us time. Princess Suvi would solve this diplomatically if possible. War is bad for everyone."

Zenith scoffs. "Diplomatically? Who started this war? Not us. Them."

"What choice did they have?"

"Look at me."

I owe him that much. I gulp in air and raise my gaze. The anger in his eyes, the hurt due to my betrayal, is even worse than I imagined.

"Stay in this room." He stands and backs away from me. "Do not, under any circumstances, seek to post those letters. In fact…" He snatches them up as well as my supplies. "There. I've removed temptation."

"What are you going to do?"

He stuffs my things inside his jacket. "I don't know."

"Zee—"

"Are you going to beg?" His tone is so harsh it hardly sounds like him. "After lying to me for months?"

"I will if it would help."

"It won't." He turns his back on me. "Stay put until I return."

I can't watch as the door clicks open and then shut. He doesn't even slam it as he leaves me.