my name with ominous temper. “What do you mean you’re done?”
“Done,” I spat, letting the fury warm my cold and aching heart. “Done with you. Done with your vengeance. Get what you need and go. Get off My island and never come back. If you even survive. You are not welcome on Calanthe and I will never marry you.”
“Whoa, wait.” Sondra stood, bewildered, looking between us. “You’re already married, like forever.”
I gazed coolly at Con, who looked pained. I’d been willing to keep the truth quiet, but I was also done going along with his pretenses. “No, we’re not. When I died, the marriage bond dissolved. Our brief liaison is nothing but a footnote in Ambrose’s history. There.” I gestured to my severed hand. “The trophy you needed, duly claimed. Take it and go.”
Holding on to my composure with the last thread of my control, I spun and strode out of the room. Over the furious clicking of my heels on the tile, I heard Sondra’s voice. “Oh man, did you fuck up.”
* * *
Ibolya tried to follow, but I waved her away. My other ladies were off taking care of assigned tasks, not expecting me to leave the strategy session so soon. I snorted to myself, muttering, “So-called strategy session.”
Con would never learn—and apparently neither would I.
I likely should consider convening court, since I wasn’t going to be wasting time watching Con pretend to take advice. But I couldn’t bear the thought of maintaining my poise in front of everyone—much less attempting to make coolheaded decisions—not when I felt so terribly raw.
I might be healed physically, but internally I remained a shattered mess.
So, knuckling away the traitorous tears and walking at a brisk pace, I entered the main hall and turned toward my chambers, needing to just be alone for a while. Maybe I could spend some time in the dreamthink, gain some clarity and calm that way. Startled nobles and courtiers flashed me curious glances as they quickly bowed before my furious passage. I tried to convey the impression that I was hurrying to an important engagement rather than running away.
“Lia!” Con’s voice thundered from some distance behind me, echoing through the graceful hall with coarse, dark threat.
Against all reason, I picked up my pace.
“Don’t you run from me!” he roared.
Aghast faces became a blur as I ran indeed—at least as fast as my towering heels would allow—practically leaping up the stairs before racing down the hall to my chambers. It made no sense, but I held on to the goal of simply reaching my rooms and barring the door against him.
There weren’t guards on my doors since I wasn’t within, but they were closed. I skidded to a halt and lost precious seconds twisting the handle open. I threw myself inside, turning to thrust the door shut and lock it—only to find Con right there, golden eyes blazing, hair streaming like a thunder god’s. He hit the door with his hand, throwing me backward with the force of it, and I teetered on my heels, flailing for balance.
Until he caught me around the waist, kicked the door shut, then—holding me fast—paused to turn the lock.
“Put Me down, you crazed brute!” I practically shrieked, flailing to be free.
“No.” He sounded eerily calm.
“I told you to put Me down this instant.”
“If you were serious, you would’ve hit me with that magic whammy.” He strode across the sitting room and carried me through the next sets of doors, into our bedroom, then tossed me onto the bed. Folding his arms, he scowled at me. “We’re going to talk.”
I made a great show of looking around at the bed. “This is talking?”
With a growl he went to close the bedroom door, sliding that bolt home, too. “They won’t interrupt us in here if they think we’re having sex.”
He had a point, though that just pissed me off further. “I am not having sex with you,” I spat, sliding off the bed and pacing a good distance away.
“I know that, Lia.” He sounded sorry and weary, and rubbed his hands over his face. “When I said we needed to talk, I meant it.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” I informed him crisply. “We’ve said everything that needs to be said.”
He dropped his hands and studied me. For once he didn’t have the rock hammer on his back, and I realized he must have left it behind in the Sand Salon to chase after me. What a spectacle we’d made of ourselves. Between Con