talk again.
Grinning his famous Indigo-grin, he stroked my cheek with his knuckles. “Trust me, it was my pleasure.”
A sob of pure joy caught in my chest. “Oh my God, Indy. You’re still alive! I can’t—” It was more joy than I could express. Surging forward, I burrowed close and kissed him again.
“So are you,” he managed to answer between small breaks of air. “I could only hope, but I had no idea.”
Laughing through tears of delight and bone-weary relief, I asked, “Did my hair grow back too?” If my hands weren’t still pinned to my sides inside this damn rug, I would’ve lifted one to check for myself.
The sympathy in his gaze told me the answer before he spoke. “No, my love,” he murmured, only to smile sadly and stroke his fingers over the stubble there. “But the good news is you look just as beautiful bald as you do with a long golden mane down to your knees. Here.” When he realized I was struggling to get my arms free, he produced a dagger to cut me out, only to stop hacking through it when he realized I was naked underneath.
“Where the hell are your clothes?” he asked, stunned, as I wiggled my arms free and clutched the rug to my chest with one hand before I pushed into a sitting position with the other. Damn, but it felt good to move on my own again.
To speak again. To be free. And to be with Indigo.
For a moment, I wondered if any of this was real because it certainly didn’t seem possible after the nightmare I’d just survived.
“But—that’s not—” Qualmer tried to articulate his shock from behind us. “How did you—?” He shook his head confused. “She was at death’s door just a moment ago.”
He lay, pinned chest-first, in the dirt with some regal-looking fellow holding him down as he twisted his neck around so he could gawk at my bruise-free face.
Mouth falling open, he finally realized the truth. “Holy shit. You’re the true love of a fucking High Clifter?”
“Okay, who is that guy?” Indigo demanded, pointing and scowling at Qualmer’s glamoured face. “Please tell me he’s not the true King of Lowden.”
“He’s not,” I said, staring the fake king in the eye. “That is my cousin, Qualmer. He confessed to me that he killed Tomrick Gill and has been impersonating him for the past eight years.”
“Say what now?” the man sitting on Qualmer screeched, sending me an incredulous glance. “So ever since Tomrick’s been on the throne, it’s been a Graykey in disguise?”
“Surprise,” Qualmer answered cockily and let himself transform back into his true form, his blond hair growing down to his shoulders and turning red, then his frame lengthening and face stretching before the eyepatch came into view. “You never could tell, could you?”
“Son of a bitch,” Olivander hissed, jumping off him in surprise. “But, you—we invited you into our home and broke bread with you.”
Qualmer winked at him as he pushed to his feet to dust dirt and pebbles from his front. “Your daddy was even generous enough to send some of his harem girls to my rooms when I stayed over.” With a chuckle, he tossed his long hair over his shoulder and repositioned his eyepatch into place. “Think the old bastard would have a literal heart attack if he learned he’d put his arm around a Graykey and called him son?” He laughed maliciously. “I think he likes me better than he does you, Olivander.”
Olivander drew his sword. “Show it to me,” he demanded.
“What?” Qualmer asked in confusion before shaking his head. “Oh, you want to see this, do you?” Pushing up his sleeve, he flipped his arm over and showed off his Graykey mark.
Olivander swore under his breath and shuddered in revulsion.
“I wonder what your daddy’s going to do when he learns a Graykey killed his middle son.” Then he produced a blade from his tunic, and he roared as he launched himself at Olivander.
Except Indigo caught him from behind, wrapping an arm around his head and slicing a dagger across his throat.
“This was how you killed my mother; do you remember that?” he murmured into Qualmer’s ear as Qualmer gasped for air and began to die in his arms. “She hugged you in sympathy, and you wrapped your arms around her before sinking a blade into her body.”
My cousin met my eyes, his wide and begging as they glazed with fear and pain. I looked away, deciding he deserved what he got.
When