She was so startled by that statement she drew back and studied him.
He clearly regretted his remark at once. She watched his expression close up. His jaw hardened and his lips sealed themselves into a tight line.
Ah, this man of hers. He was capable of opening up, but only in very brief and narrow peeks. She traced the hollow of his rigid spine through his shirt, saying quietly, “I wondered.”
He grimaced and his gaze struck the curtains that hid the balcony beyond.
“Do you have many memories of him? Six is so young.”
“Too young for a memory like that,” he said flatly, almost as if he’d seen his father’s body, but surely not. Who would allow such a thing?
She started to ask, but he kissed each of her eyes closed. “Shall we make another pleasant memory in here?” His mouth sought hers.
She let him erase the troubling thoughts lingering in her psyche, but it was temporary. She hadn’t been completely honest with him and couldn’t be.
Not until she had found the lion’s mate.
* * *
Galila belatedly realized how tasteless it was to have her mother’s things shipped to her in Zyria. She wound up requesting they be left in a storage room in the lower palace, rather than in the royal chambers.
Then she had to wait until she had a free afternoon, which didn’t happen until she had had her doctor’s appointment and her pregnancy confirmed.
That had prompted a flurry of additional appointments with key staff who would keep the news confidential but begin preparations for the upcoming heir. She and Karim even squeezed in a day trip to inform his mother, who was beside herself at the news.
Finally, five days later, Galila was able to go with her assistant down to the roomful of boxes and begin sifting through them. They were labeled but very generally—Books, Art and Heirlooms—all words that could indicate the box held the bookend she sought.
Her assistant was beginning to nag her about being on her feet too long when she squeezed something hard and vaguely animal-shaped through a careful wrapping of linen. She asked her helpers to leave her alone for a few moments.
Stomach tight and curdling, she lifted out the heavy piece. Her hands shook as she unwound the linen.
It was the lioness, exactly as she had dreamed it.
Not risking her foot this time, she kept it on the table and tilted it enough to see the same artist’s signature, the same date and the inscription Where Is He?
She drew a shaken breath. What should she do now?
* * *
Galila was still not herself. Was it the baby? Karim wondered.
She had had the pregnancy confirmed and the obvious signs were there, now that he made a point to notice them. She hadn’t had a cycle and her breasts were tender. A brief glance online told him moodiness and forgetfulness weren’t uncommon.
If he didn’t know better, however, he would think she was drunk, she was so absentminded, leaving the making of conversation with their guests to him. He could tell the older couple was surprised by her wan smiles and quiet introspection. They had met her before and knew she was typically animated and engaging.
Finally, the wife of the minister said something about Galila suffering the pressure of producing an heir. Galila snapped out of her daze to blush and Karim was certain they immediately put her distraction down to pregnancy. They left with smug smiles, convinced they held a state secret.
“Our news will be rumored on every station tomorrow,” he said as he followed her into her rooms.
She gave him a startled look. “What news?”
He stared at her. “What is going on with you?”
Her entire being seemed to deflate. “I have to talk to you about something and I don’t know how.”
The anguish in her expression made his heart lurch. “Is it the baby?”
How could he be instantly devastated when he’d barely begun to absorb this new reality?
“No. I’m perfectly fine. Not even iron deficient or suffering much morning sickness. The baby and I are completely healthy. No, this is something else entirely.” She touched her forehead. “Come. I have to show you something.”
They dismissed the staff and she took him into her bedroom where she knelt to open a lower drawer. She lifted out a wrapped object that was obviously heavy.
He bent to take it from her and saw the anxiety that leaped into her expression as he picked it up, as if she wanted to snatch it back.
“What is it?” Its density and bulk felt vaguely familiar.
She waved at the bed and he set it there to let her unwrap it. She did, slowly. With dread, even. He heard her swallow as she revealed glimpses of ebony and gold.
It was a bookend, one he recognized as similar to the one that had so engrossed her in his office. The two polished black slabs set at an angle were identical to his, but the lioness cast in gold on this one was in a different position, peering over the top of the wall, rather than around the side.
She had distracted him with pregnancy news, but that had been subterfuge. This had been her reason for coming to his office last week. He didn’t care to be lied to, but that wasn’t what made his scalp prickle so hard it felt as though it was coming off.
“An early birthday present?” He wasn’t a flippant man. The remark came out abraded by the gravel in his throat. The pit of his gut was turning sour. “Where did it come from?”
He already knew, even before she looked up at him with misery and regret pulling at her features. Her knuckles were white and sharp as teeth where she clutched the linen in her fist.
“It belonged to my mother.”
He closed his eyes. Now came the fury.
“Who else have you told?”
* * *
Galila frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, who have I told? Karim, do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Yes,” he clipped out.
She had expected more disbelief and shock, not an immediate leap to damage control. She had agonized all day, since pulling this from the box, about whether to tell him. She had then braced herself for having to convince him, once he realized what she suspected. This was, after all, circumstantial evidence. Strong but not definitive. Of course, he would have doubts. She still wasn’t ready to believe it.
How could he get there so fast without working through all the reasons that this proved nothing?
“Maybe you should sit down,” she said. “Because I don’t think you realize what this might mean.”
“It matches the one that belonged to my father. I know what it means, Galila. I didn’t think there was proof of their affair. That there was a way for it to be pieced together. What did you tell them in Khalia about this?” His voice was scythe-sharp, cutting off her reach for other explanations and leaving her weak excuses on the ground. He was so tall and intimidating in that moment, she stumbled back a step.
She kept going, backing away until her knees found the chair where she threw her robe when she climbed into bed. She plopped into it.
“Am I to understand you knew?” She was like a fish gasping for air, jaw working, eyes goggling.
“Of course I knew! Why do you think I married you?”
She was glad she was sitting down. His words bowled her over. She felt each of the buttons in the upholstery digging into her back.
“That’s why you came on to me at Zufar’s wedding? Why you coerced him into agreeing to our marriage? To hide this secret?” She thought being a political pawn had been bad. She wasn’t even that expedient! Their marriage was a gag order, nothing more.
“Do you understand the ramifications if this gets out?” he went on. “It could start a war!”
She had never seen him this aggressive, shoulders bunched, face so hard there was nothing of the tender lover she had slept beside. He was not a man at all. He was a warrior defending his kingdom.
“My parents’ marriage was a peace treaty with tribesmen who backed her father,” he added in a clipped tone. “They support me, but grudgingly. If they found out my father cheated on her? That he had a child with another woman? Who knows what sort of retaliation they would take against me. Or Adir.”
He paced away and his hand cut through the air.
“Who even knows what kind of man Adir is? He’s already shown himself willing to take revenge against your brother for your mother’s actions. What would he do to me and Zyria? Then there is your brother Zufar.”
He spun to confront her.
“Zyria and Khalia have been in a cold war for years. Your mother’s doing, I am sure, since my uncle’s overtures after my father’s death were always shut down. I knew why the relationship between our countries went stale.” He tapped the center of his chest. “I never tried to reach out when I took the throne, knowing there was no point. But after your mother passed, I was suddenly invited to your brother’s wedding. We are finally in a position to mend fences between our countries and you want to tell him this?”
“No!” she cried. “I haven’t told Zufar or anyone. I’ve been agonizing about telling you.” She had been trying to protect him, didn’t he see that?
“How you even—” He ran his hand down his face and glared at the bookend.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“My father told me,” he spat with great bitterness. “The night he died. Your mother cut off their affair and he got himself blind drunk. If only he had blacked out, but no. He sat there and told me in great detail how deeply he was suffering a broken heart. Said he loved my mother, but not the way he loved Namani. His feelings for her were beyond what he thought possible.”