Page 83 of The Chains You Defy

Two servants hurried to open the vast doors to the east wing, where my suite was located, and I didn’t pay themany attention, just marched straight on to my quarters. If I lingered somewhere a second longer than necessary, I’d kill them all. I’d done so before.

“I can open my own godsdamned doors,” I snarled at another servant, who almost stumbled over his feet as he scrambled to push down the handles. “The sole reason I grant you a continued existence is for you to ensure thatno onewill disturb me until I send for someone. There’s only one exception to said rule, and if you’re too dense to figure out what I mean, you’ll deserve the death that’s surely coming for you.”

Naya was studying me without saying a word. Even though we’d all warned her, I was convinced she hadn’t imagined how much worse reality was. But my behavior had to be like this; any weakness would be instantly reported back to Galrach, and avoiding this for as long as possible was paramount.

After we’d entered my suite and I’d closed the door, I filled my lungs to full capacity before exhaling again.

Facing Nayana, I braced myself for her to hurl the choice words at me that she’d surely decided on already. But instead, she stared at the splendor surrounding her, even though this was just the antechamber.

My expression softened as I observed her soaking in the luxury of the room, which was mainly decorated in black and silver, with accents of a cerulean color not unlike the hue of her eyes.

Without disturbing her view, I stalked around her and opened the door leading to my sitting room, grabbed her hand, and hauled her inside.

“Holy Triad, Dion. These are your quarters?”

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

“There is nothing humble about this place.”

Although she radiated the wish to explore, I pulled her further into my space, to the heart of my chambers. Her lips parted slightly as she spotted the massive four-poster bed enveloped in heavy black curtains dominating the room.

Only—what in Kalag’s fucking name was that?

Dumbfounded, my eyes wandered from my bed to the windows.

Fuck me.

Someone had installed new drapes while I’d been away.

New fucking drapes.

All that pondering, in vain.

Confused, the unauthorized change to my quarters threw me off more than I could have imagined, and I cautiously tasted the concept of mulling over if I wanted my old drapes back or if I simply would set the new ones on fire the very moment I turned my back on the palace forever.

As usual, the tiny female dragged me from the depths of my compulsive mind.

“Oh, Dion. Look at all that. There’s a grand piano. Oh, is it broken?”

“Yes. Before my parents died and my education focused only on battle, I played a lot. The piano was my favorite instrument. One day, if you want, I’ll tell you the story. But not now.” I’d approached the black grand piano and lightly stroked over the polished wood, which was marred by a huge gash running through the whole corpus. The vise clamping around my chest surprised me to no end, and to my shock, I had to fight to keep my eyes from glossing over.

What was that? I’d passed the stupid thing a million times, and suddenly, my heart was breaking once again?

Gods, I wouldn’t allow that.

“How…did they die?”

“When I came into my magic, at an age comparable to twelve winters old in human terms, my mother was assassinated with poison. Galrach deemed her too soft, although this sounds like a bullshit excuse to me, and I assume there’s more to the story. Anyway, he blamed her murder on my father and ordered his execution. He raised me as his ward, and then, when I’d reached maturity, he officially installed me as his heir instead of Antas or any hypothetical child he’d sired out of wedlock. Even though all that occurred prior to Galanta’s unification, I’m sure Galrach had everything planned out. He’s a tactician and schemer like none other.”

Nayana’s eyes were full of horror, and her fists clenched and unclenched before she flung herself at me, embracing me tightly. Gods, if I’d figured out how painful memories made her affectionate, I would have spilled some stories earlier. Or not.

“I’m so sorry, Dion.”

“This happened a long time ago, and anyway, I don’t like speaking about my fucked-up past.” As I wrapped my arms around her tiny form, I settled on using this moment to my advantage, for I was confident that once she heard what I’d decided, a discussion would follow. “While I have your attention, there’s something important.”

“What is it, princeling?”

“I want you to sleep here, in my bedchambers.”