Born of Silence (28 page)

How could they have done this to him?

She wanted to cry over the cold brutality that had disfigured his face. Damn them all for it!

Darling took the mask from her hand and gave her a harsh, condemning stare. “Just so you know, this changes nothing between us.” He withdrew from her and fastened his pants. The coldness of that action made her eyes water.

Then he returned the mask to his face and left her there.

Her heart shattering, she scooted off his desk and retrieved her gown from the floor. Normally, she would have insulted him back for the verbal slap he’d given her, but not this time.

He’d been put through a far worse hell.

What would you do?
She couldn’t imagine having her face destroyed the way his was.

Yes, Darling was part of the ruling class they’d all hated, but he wasn’t evil. He didn’t hurt other people. Not unless they came at him first.

Sick about it, she’d just pulled her gown back on when three guards entered the study in military formation. Her heart stopped beating.

They looked like they’d come to arrest her.

Without a single word, the largest of them crossed the room to stand beside her before he picked her up in his arms.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

His features impassive, he spoke in a low, unemotional tone. “What the governor told me to do.”

Terror consumed her. Was this really what Darling wanted done? “I’m being arrested?”

He didn’t answer as he carried her out of the study. But instead of taking her outside to where she would assume the jail to be, he turned and headed up the elegant staircase while the other two guards followed closely behind them.

Completely baffled, she didn’t say a word until he took her into
the largest, most elaborate bedroom she’d ever seen. There was a heavily carved canopy bed against the far wall. To her left was a huge marble hearth with chairs and a fur rug set before it. A small dining table and two chairs were set on her right. The table was topped with two ornate silver candelabras and an impressive bouquet of freshly cut flowers.

The top of the extremely high walls had carved and gilded crown molding. But the strangest part was the ceiling, which appeared to be a dark brown smoked mirror. One that clearly reflected whatever was going on in the room.

Was this Darling’s bedroom? With all the lace and pastels, it seemed more feminine than masculine. But it was a pale blue…

The guard carried her to one of the white chairs in front of the hearth and placed her in it.

An older woman came forward with a frown. Tiny and frail, she had her light gray hair pulled up in an elegant chignon and she was dressed in a somber brown dress. “This is the royal mistress?” she asked the guard.

“Yes, ma’am.”

His answer only seemed to confuse her more. “But she’s a woman.” She turned her scowl to Zarya. “You are a woman, correct?”

“Last time I checked.”

The guard shrugged, then went to the door where the other two guards waited. He stepped back and held it open for Maris before he took his leave.

Sweeping into the room with a flourish, Maris grinned like a criminal who’d just made a record score. He laughed giddily. “I knew he’d go back for you. I knew it.”

“Do you mind, my lord?” the older woman snapped. “I have duties to attend.”

Maris waved a hand at her. “Relax, Gera. I’m here to help.”
He frowned as he saw the bandage on Zarya’s ankle. “What happened?”

“I fell in the kitchen and I’m supposed to…” Her words broke off as the door opened and a servant came in with a cold pack. Without pausing, the servant came straight to Zarya and lifted her foot to the ottoman, then placed the cold pack over her ankle.

“Let me guess,” Maris said with a proud smile. “Keep it iced?”

“Yes.”

Gera excused the other servant before she approached Zarya’s chair. “Then I take it you’re not supposed to be walking on it, either?”

“Not for a week.”

Gera sighed wearily. “How am I supposed to get you into the tub then?”

Maris made a strange noise before he picked Zarya up. “Just show me where you want her.”

Ramrod stiff, Gera sputtered in indignation. “No men are allowed in here, except for the governor. You should know that, Lord Maris.”

He tsked at her. “And Gera, you should know by now that I’m just one of the girls. Darling will understand and I’m sure he’d much rather I carry her than one of the guards. Now where’s that tub?”

Without another word of protest, Gera led them through the doorway next to the bed.

Zarya’s face flamed red as she saw the mirrors that covered every wall. How could anyone bathe in this place? It was horrifying!

The ceiling was painted with people in all kinds of sexual positions, some of which she wasn’t sure would be feasible for anyone with a spine. “Oh my…”

Maris laughed. “Tawdry, isn’t it?”

“Not the word I was thinking, but it’ll do.”

He kissed her on the cheek, then set her on the wide tiled edge of the tub where someone had already drawn a warm, sudsy bath. “Before I scandalize Gera any further, I shall take my leave. But I’ll be back.”

Scowling even more, Gera came forward with the cold pack. “I’m so confused. When the governor told me to make preparations for a mistress, I assumed it would be Lord Maris, or another man. Are you sure it’s you?”

Well that wasn’t something a woman wanted to hear. Especially since Zarya wasn’t exactly sure of her position here or what Darling intended for her. “I… guess.”

“Very well then, we should get started.”

Started with what?

Gera set the cold pack down, then helped Zarya pull her ugly gown off. But the moment Zarya was naked, the older woman hesitated. Her features pinched, she reached down to touch Zarya’s inner thigh where Darling had left visible proof of what they’d done a few minutes ago.

Zarya’s face exploded with heat.

Eyes wide, Gera pinned her with a condemning look that actually scared her. “You’ve already been with a man today?”

“Relax, Gera. It’s mine.”

Her skin turning as red as Zarya’s, Gera faced the door where Darling stood, and bowed low. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I meant no disrespect to your mistress.”

Zarya would have covered herself with the gown, but Gera had tossed it out of her reach. She had no choice except to sit there completely naked while Darling’s gaze burned into her with a powerful hold she couldn’t break. How she wished she could hear his thoughts.

That look felt like hatred, and yet…

Why bring her here and declare her his mistress if he hated her
guts? Was it to humiliate her? Or did he honestly want her here with him?

Nothing he did made sense.

Finally, he blinked and looked at Gera. “I forgot to tell you that she’ll need an entire wardrobe purchased. Not just boudoir, but clothing for inside and out. Formal, business, and casual.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else?”

“If you have any questions, confer with Lord Maris. He knows my tastes intimately.” He gave a curt nod to his servant and before Zarya could speak a word, he was gone again.

Darling paused outside the room that had been reserved for the governor’s mistress for hundreds of years, and tried to sort through his ragged feelings that assaulted him with conflicting emotions. He felt so lost and confused, and at the same time…

He finally felt like he was home.

It didn’t make a bit of sense. Even though he’d been born here, this particular palace had never felt that way to him before. No place had. For most of his life, the Winter Palace had served as his prison. So much so that he couldn’t bear to walk past his old bedroom or the ones his family used whenever they were in residence—he wouldn’t even go near those wings. The memories there were just too brutal to face.

But being here didn’t bother him as much as it had before. Something inside him was different now. It seemed ludicrous that it would be from the presence of a single person.

I’m just getting used to the fact that Arturo’s dead.

Darling was assuming more and more of his duties, and becoming the emperor his father had trained him to be.

That was it. It had to be. His mind was finally accepting the reality that he was safe, and that his life was finally his own.

It has nothing to do with Zarya.

This was about him. His was transitioning on his own. This was who he was always meant to become.

I’m the governor…

Stepping away from Zarya’s room, he headed for the stairs.

Before he could take more than three steps, Maris met him from the opposite hallway. Maris beamed a smile of smug satisfaction as he pranced and preened a circle around Darling like a child who was overly pleased with himself.

Refusing to be charmed or amused, Darling narrowed his gaze at him. “I’m still mad at you.”

As usual, Maris completely ignored his angry tone. “You’ll get over it. You always do.”

“Highly doubtful.”

Maris shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve been wrong before. Many times, point of fact. I have most of them documented.”

Yeah, but this was different.
He
was different. The Resistance had turned on him and that wasn’t something he’d ever forget or forgive.

As for Zarya…

I’m losing faith in humanity one person at a time.

He glared at Maris. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Maris tsked at him. “It’s such a shame you have no recollection of last night.”

“Why?”

Wrinkling his nose in a playful gesture, Maris draped his arm around Darling’s shoulders and whispered in his ear. “You proposed to me, my precious. Told me that you loved me and had dreamed of me naked in your arms for years. You even begged me to ravish you right in your own bed.”

That actually amused the hell out of him. Ravish him… right. Darling smiled in spite of his agitation. “You’re such a liar.”

Maris blinked innocently. “How do you know?”

“You have absolutely no self-control, Mari. Had I begged you to ravish me, I’m positive you would have. And we were both fully clothed when I woke up this morning.”

“But you don’t know that for sure…” Maris’s gaze was bright with his teasing. He squeezed Darling, then moved ahead to reach the stairs first. He flounced around and raked a lustful gaze over Darling’s body. “I can see the doubt in your eyes. Admit it, Dar. You secretly want me. You dream about having me naked in your bed. You know you do.”

Darling laughed until he caught a glimpse of himself in the smoked mirror wall. His humor died instantly. There for a minute, he’d completely forgotten what had been done to him.

The horror that had become his existence.

Maris sobered. “It’s all right, sweetie.”

But it wasn’t. They both knew that. Darling wasn’t sure if it, or he, would ever be all right again. “Have you ever felt lost, Mari?”

He folded his hands in front of him in a somber pose that was out of character for him. “Yes, I have. And I know that place of crazy where you asphyxiate every time reality crashes down and you see the nightmare that has become your life. The darkness that swallows you whole until you fear you’ll never see light again.”

Darling paused by his side. “How did you find your way home?”

“I didn’t.” Maris reached out and brushed a strand of Darling’s hair back from his mask. “My best friend found me wandering in the darkness and carried me back to the light.”

Darling fell silent as he remembered finding Maris in a Ladorian whorehouse after his parents had thrown him out. He’d been too proud and ashamed to tell Darling what they’d done to him. Instead, Maris had lied and said that his parents had forgiven him and that Darling had nothing to worry about.

Until the Resistance had tortured him, that had been the worst
three months of his life. He’d had no idea where Maris had gone. No one knew anything about what had happened to him.

No one in Maris’s family had even cared. Darling would never forget the words Maris’s father had growled at him when he’d asked if Maris’s father knew where he was.
“Hopefully, he’s in a grave somewhere. At least then he can’t shame us anymore.”

By the time Darling had tracked him down, Maris had become addicted to drugs and was selling himself for food and shelter. He’d looked so terrible. Gaunt and pale.

His entire body covered in sweat, Maris had been lying naked on a flea-infested bed that had been crusted over with stains. He’d been so out of it that he hadn’t recognized Darling at first.

Once Maris realized who he was, he’d thrown up all over him.

Darling had carried him out of there and then stayed with him for weeks as he sobered up. Maris hadn’t touched anything stronger than sweet wine since.

To this day, Darling had no idea what he would have done had he not found Maris that day. Maris was the one person he could always confide in without fear of being judged or hated. The only person who’d kept his most guarded secret and held it close.