He walked to the hearth, his back to me, and knelt, throwing kindling on the fire, and then another log. The flames blazed upward and brightened the room. “Cold?” he asked.
The room was suddenly stifling. Hot. But not from the fire. Sweat trickled down my back.
“Nothing to say?” he whispered. “And you had so much to say just the other day.”
He stood and turned, staring at me, and I saw his face for the first time.
His beautiful face he had loved so much.
A jagged, stitched gash ran from his chin all the way up to the corner of his eye.
It was still puffed and red and angry.
“What do you think?” he asked. “There’s more of your handiwork beneath my shirt. Would you like to see it?”
I shook my head.
His eyes were blacker than I had ever seen them. They sank into mine like claws. “You could have had everything,” he whispered. “You could have sat at my side and shared all the riches of victory.” He bent over, his hands pressing my wrists harder into the arm of the chair, his face close to mine. “Now you are going to die with nothing. You’ll be nothing … but maybe I could still forgive you?”
“Really, Montegue? Are we going to play this game?”
His breath was fire against my face, a dragon sniffing his prey. “But you play the game so well.”
He knelt in front of me, and his hand slid around my ankle and slowly traveled up the inside of my leg.
I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. “I don’t have it,” I gasped when he reached my thigh.
It didn’t stop him. He smiled, and the scar pulled at the corner of his mouth. “And I should believe you?”
“Why didn’t you have Banques search me?”
“And deprive myself of this pleasure?”
“It’s because you don’t trust him.”
“Look at what temptation did to you.” His hand continued to roam.
“I tossed it away!”
He laughed. “I’m not a fool, Kazimyrah, and neither are you. A thief would never throw away such a valuable treasure. Where is it?”
“It’s gone, Montegue. You’ll never get it.”
He stood, his composure cracking.
“So you hid it. Where?”
I remained silent. He paced the room, tightening and flexing his fingers, then stopped in front of me again.
“They found you up on the mountain. Where were you going? Meeting up with more loyalists?”
I replied again with silence.
“Where are the children?” he asked, perhaps hoping to frighten me more. He knew I cared about them more than his precious dust. When I didn’t respond, he added, “We’re searching, and we will find them. It would be best to tell me now so something unfortunate doesn’t happen. They did love me, you know.”
Revulsion rose in the back of my throat. “They hated you. I hate you. You’re nothing but a ruthless, ambitious monster.”
He grabbed my face. His fingers dug in, his eyes wide and fierce. “You wanted me!”