Page 7

I’d never met a man who could laugh so hard because someone had just thrown a jug of water in his face. Granted, I had missed. But still.

“I’m not going to take my bath in front of you!” I lost my temper.

To which he continued to smile.

“That was my understanding, yes.”

“I won’t sleep with you either! You assured me I had a choice!”

This time, Dovah turned toward the large bed—the only one in the room—before facing me again. His amused expression made me want to pounce on him with all claws out.

“And I intend to keep my promise. We can perfectly well share a bed without sex being a part of it.”

He then raised his hands in the air as a gesture of goodwill. I shot him a suspicious look in return.

“Ashana, I’m not the kind of person to break a promise. Take my word for it. If, on the other hand, you’ve changed your mind and would like us to...”

He trailed off, mockingly raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

This was all a game to him! This man had killed my father that very morning!

I suddenly collapsed, bursting into tears.

I wasn’t going to make it. I had to hate him.

He was the assassin of the King of Muvaria. My nerves were shot.

For a moment, he seemed taken aback by my reaction, but he eventually came over and crouched down beside me. His words made it clear he had guessed what was tormenting me.

“Ashana, please accept my apologies. Paivrin keeps telling me that I lack delicacy. I can only agree with him. I’ve been a weapon for too long, and it’s become so natural to kill that I forget about other people’s feelings.

Hate me if you must, that’s your most legitimate right.

Think of me as a monster, because I am. I won’t deny it.

I killed your father, your king, in what I consider a fair fight, but he still remains a precious person in your heart.

But we are now husband and wife. We’ll have to overcome this ordeal.

It’s the duty of both of us, so do it for the future of Muvaria, if you must find a purpose in this. ”

With that, he slipped his index finger under my chin to lift my head and plunge his dark gaze into mine.

“We’re going to sleep together in this bed, not to force you to consummate our marriage, but because this way, it’s easier for me to protect you. The bath is truly for you to relax, so I will respect your privacy and wait on the other side of the door. Does that suit you?”

He claimed to be a monster, yet in that moment, he wasn’t behaving like one. But who was Dovah, really? The Black Demon? Or this man who was trying to be considerate?

“Yes,” I murmured in a broken voice. “Thank you for your help.”

With the back of my hand, I wiped away the tears still clinging to my lashes. My husband stood up and took a long look at me.

“From now on, call me Dovah. Just knock on the door when you’re done.”

With that, he left the room as promised.

My mind blank, I got up to search for a nightgown and shawl in one of my trunks, when two servants entered to bring me the tub of hot water.

Steam rose from the clear surface. I thanked them, then my gaze met that of Dovah, who was waiting quietly, leaning against the wall opposite, arms folded.

His eyes seemed capable of holding me captive in the grip of their power.

The servants set towels on a round side table covered with a worn embroidered doily.

“My lady, would you like a maid to help you?” asked the older of the two.

Given my rank and who was accompanying me—my husband!

—the old servant seemed astonished by the flagrant absence of a maid in my service.

Little did he know that, despite my status as a princess, this was something I had wanted since childhood.

I’d believed from an early age that I’d never have to marry, so respecting etiquette was a burden I’d quickly rid myself of.

Yet here I was, the eldest of three daughters and the first to marry.

I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t need anyone, thank you. You’re dismissed.”

The two men exchanged funny glances, then the one who had addressed me shrugged his shoulders. This time, I was careful not to look in Dovah’s direction. The hot water worked almost miraculously on my aching muscles. The day had been long. Far too long, in fact. I couldn’t wait for it to be over.

I had brought with me several soaps from the castle, made with trona, olive oil, honey, and milk.

I took my time, washing thoroughly from head to toe.

Dried and dressed, I decided to knock on the door to let Dovah know that I was done with my bath.

When he turned the knob, I stepped back, clutching my woollen shawl tightly around my shoulders.

Seeing him appear, his hair damp, I questioned him with my eyes.

“I went to the river to wash up. Don’t worry. I posted two guards outside the room while I was gone.”

At this time of year, the water in the river must have been frozen!

“You’re mad! You’ll catch your death!” I exclaimed as I let him in.

He shook his head like an excited puppy, clearly pleased with himself.

“I doubt it. Even death fears me. How was your bath? Was it pleasant? Did you miss me?”

I chose to ignore his words and walked over to the side table, grabbing one of the dry towels to throw at him. He caught it before it even grazed his face, then thanked me with a cheeky grin. I placed my hands on my hips, making my disapproval clear.

“It’s not exactly the right season to go splashing around with the fish,” I said. “You’re in Muvaria.”

“Good thing you clarified that. Just imagine if I’d got the wrong country...You smell amazing.”

The attempt to change the subject was rude. But I appreciated the effort to make up for his blunder after mentioning the burning and bloodshed of my kingdom.

“This is my soap. It’s made according to an ancestral Muvarian recipe.”

Suddenly, I realized he was undressing.

“But...What are you doing?” I asked in a strangled voice.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

“You’re right. You’re right,” he said flatly.

With one hand on my heart, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“We must eat. I’m starving.”

With his shirt open, revealing the black ink designs on his skin, he opened the door wide to address his men in Osacanian:

“Get us some food. Quickly, please.”

As he vigorously dried his hair with the towel I’d given him, I couldn’t help but stare at the drawings on his body. They intrigued me. Of course, he eventually noticed.

“Want a closer look?”

There was something promiscuous in the way he said it. I immediately looked up into his face and locked my gaze with his. His eyes were like bottomless pits filled with darkness, the windows to his soul.

“What do they mean?” I asked.

Dovah slowly removed his shirt and tossed it into a corner.

I swallowed hard and instinctively took a step back.

He had quite an impressive build, if I’m being honest. A broad chest, pectorals that seemed to be as hard as his armour, and a stomach so muscular that it formed small, intriguing ridges.

I took another step back. Every time I distanced myself from him, he took great pleasure in getting closer.

“These are curses.”

My eyes widened in amazement.

“What are you saying?” I whispered.

He looked down at his own body, then used his index finger to trace the outline of one of the dark arabesques.

“Each line represents a curse. A curse that reminds me that I’ve done wrong and that I’ve been hated enough to be cursed.”

“Why didn’t you go see a mage or a witch to remove them?”

“It’s no use. We know how to get rid of them, and it doesn’t depend on our will.”

“We?” I repeated.

Dovah let out a long sigh.

“It’s complicated and beyond your reach, for now. We’ll talk about it another time, if you don’t mind.”

“I didn’t know it was possible to hate someone so much,” I murmured, still in shock.

To which Dovah smiled coldly.

“Is that so? Is it any wonder people hate me? They call me the Black Demon. Dovah the Bloodthirsty. The Lord of Darkness, and so on and so forth. You hate me yourself, my lady . I’m amazed I haven’t had my skin completely covered in black yet, after all this time.”

His men entered at that exact moment, creating a welcome diversion. I couldn’t deny what he’d just said. He was my father’s killer. Even though I’d decided not to wallow in self-pity or let my grief consume me, it was a fact that I could not ignore.

Before leaving, the two knights placed cold chicken, soup, a nice loaf of bread, boiled potatoes, and a small basket containing red apples and white grapes on the large table. Probably the last grapes of the season.

With a wave of his hand, Dovah invited me to sit down opposite him. He served the meal in a skillful manner. It was clear that he, too, was used to dispensing with the help of servants.

“Thank you,” I said half-heartedly.

“You can relax. I’m not resentful by nature. I’m quick to move on after this kind of conversation. Besides, it’s hard to live as long as I have and bother with trivial things like resentment.”

“Are you that old? Listening to you, one might think you were a hundred years old,” I grumbled, before gulping down some vegetable soup.

I heard him choke and then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him bang his chest to get his mouthful of bread down.

“How old do you think I am?” he asked.

His falsely detached air didn’t fool me for a moment.

“Twenty-five, maybe thirty, tops. Your tanned skin is deceptive.”

He smiled with all his teeth. It was suspicious.

“You’re good. That’s exactly my age.”

“Twenty-five or thirty?” I retorted with excessive politeness.

“Whichever you please. Both are correct.”

I accepted the chicken breast he put on my plate.

“It’s one or the other, Dovah.”

When he heard me say his name, he stopped cutting his meat briefly. Oh, not for long, but long enough for me to notice.

“I don’t know, to tell you the truth.”