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.
From 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 immortality 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?”
“Certainly. But if I reach the other side of the lake before you do, you owe me an answer to any question I ask.”
“Deal,” I say at the same time I spring for the other side. Damn him. He wins.
“I want to hear about the first boy,” he says. “How did it start and end?”
The only thoughts of Hektor Galanis I have are when I reminisce upon his death. The beginning of our relationship is something I haven’t thought on much.
“He was the fifth son of a baron,” I start. And I realize that perhaps I shouldn’t use the past tense when speaking about him. I’m practically admitting that I know he’s dead, and an investigation is being conducted. I need to take better care with my words.
“My father had business with his father,” I continue. “He came over to our estate with the rest of his brothers. The older ones all chased after Chrysantha the moment they arrived. But Hektor singled me out. And I was drawn to him because of that fact alone. I was fifteen.
“I didn’t have any experience with men at the time. I’d hardly seen any, sequestered at home as I was. I devoured Hektor’s compliments. I relished in his nearness. And the second time his father came to call, he led me to a quiet corner of the house and kissed me. The next time, he undressed me.”
Kallias is perhaps the best listener I’ve ever encountered. He can be so still, his shadows stilling with him.
“It went on for two months. During that time, I thankfully had a maid who taught me how to prevent pregnancy. I learned the ways of the bedroom. Hektor was more than happy to instruct and pleasure me. Until he found someone new. Someone else fresh and inexperienced and willing to bed him. So then it ended.” I pause, thinking I’m done here, but then I feel prompted to add, “And then I vowed I would never fall in love again. So every man after Hektor was used and discarded once I became bored with him.”
I find a cold spot in the water, and I shift back over a few feet. I don’t know if Kallias is disturbed by what I told him, or if he doesn’t know how to respond, but I ask, “Have you ever been in love?”
“No,” he says. “Not ever. What’s it like?” “Horrible.”
The silence grows, but not in an unpleasant way. I feel closer to Kallias than I’ve ever been before. Exposed in a way that has nothing to
do with my nakedness.
A spot of movement catches my attention.
“Who’s that?” I ask, looking over Kallias’s head. “Is that one of your guards?”
Kallias turns in place, looking back toward the shore and the hefty remains of our lunch still left there.
“No,” he says. “Alessandra, stay where you are.”
Kallias cleaves the water in wide strokes as he draws closer to shore, toward the figure hovering over our picnic, staring down at its contents. I think it’s a man, but it’s difficult to tell with the attire he wears. A cloak hides much of his figure. A hood conceals his face.
“Halt!” Kallias shouts, his torso coming out of the water while the rest of him remains submerged. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The man turns, his hood falling away. Not that it reveals anything. A brown cloth covers his face from the nose up, only two slits allowing his eyes to see through.
“So much food for only two people,” the man says, his voice unusually deep, as though he’s trying to mask its true timbre. “Surely you’ve had your fill, and the poor grow hungrier by the minute. I will see that your leftovers are distributed to those who need it most.”
It’s him. The masked bandit who accosted the nobles.
The man in the brown mask gathers the blanket by the corners, sweeping all the food to the center. He places the entire bulge back into the discarded basket.
“That is the property of the king!” Kallias shouts back at him. “You will unhand it immediately.”
“It’s the king who demands too high of taxes so he can maintain troops in all the lands he’s conquered. While you start new wars in harmless kingdoms, your own people suffer. It’s time you took care of those who need your protection the most.”
Without another word, the bandit leaps onto the back of a waiting horse and starts galloping for the nearest hill.
Kallias turns back to me. “Get dressed. Quickly.” He races the rest of the way out of the water, yelling for his guards. I realize I’m staring once he reaches down to grab his pants, jumping into them seamlessly.
“Hurry!” he shouts to me again, then rushes back for the carriage.
Needing no further prompting, I swim for the shore, wringing out my hair, trying to shake the droplets of water from my skin. My clothes don’t go on easily. Everything is tight, unwilling to slide over wet skin. After much struggling, I finally get myself covered up and race after Kallias.
