Dalatteya’s face went unnaturally blank.
Samir looked at his mother curiously, once again wondering about her relationship with Emyr. Her feelings for him seemed far more complex than simple hatred.
Samir cleared his throat. “If you two are quite done talking about me like I’m not in the room, I’d like to eat,” he said, before looking at Warrehn. “Prove to my mother that you aren’t your father and actually listen to some sensible, honest advice: you can’t afford to kick us out of the palace. That would be terrible optics. But if you’re so determined to be a stubborn prick, be my guest. You’re only playing into my mother’s hands.”
Warrehn stared at him, his expression searching. Intent.
Samir got the oddest feeling in his head and it took him a moment to realize what the sensation was: Warrehn was reading his mind. It was a subtle sensation, but not subtle enough.
“Done snooping?” Samir said. “Now get out of my head.”
Warrehn didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. If anything, his gaze became sharp with curiosity. “Your telepathy isn’t bound,” he said. “Your childhood bond is broken, nearly non-existent. Why?”
Samir felt his mother tense up. She sent him a warning look, but Samir didn’t need it. He was hardly going to spill his most shameful secret to a man who would use it against him.
“My bondmate is dead,” he said. “Not that it’s any of your concern. If you try snooping in my head again, I will report you. It is a crime, and one that wouldn’t look good in your situation in particular.”
The impossible man didn’t look concerned in the least. The sharp curiosity was still burning in Warrehn’s eyes, and Samir struggled to keep a composed look on his face. Something about this man’s intensity was highly unsettling, making him feel off-balance—more off-balance than he had already felt.
“So should we pack our things or not?” Samir said, breaking the silence.
Warrehn looked at him some more. Then he pulled out his communicator and walked away, speaking on it quietly.
Samir stared after him in frustration. Was that a no or a yes?
“He wants you,” Dalatteya said.
Samir flinched and tore his gaze away from Warrehn’s back. “Don’t be silly, Mother. You heard him.”
Dalatteya’s plush lips folded into a sneer. “Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. He can deny it all he wants, but he keeps looking at you unnecessarily—and he stares. He tries to mask it with scowls, but I know men. He’s attracted to you, even if it’s a superficial attraction based on just physical appearance.” Her expression became thoughtful. “We could use it, perhaps.”
Samir sighed and wondered idly why he couldn’t have been born to a simple woman who didn’t scheme as she breathed. “I thought you ‘wouldn’t let him lay a finger’ on me?”
“And I won’t,” she said. “No son of Emyr will touch mine. But we could use his attraction in several ways. Come with me.” Taking his arm, she led him to the terrace outside. They walked deeper into the gardens before she spoke again. “It’s not a secret that Warrehn isn’t bonded. His childhood bond to his betrothed was entirely dissolved recently, so he’s very free to form attachments and pursue his desires. His unbonded state is an additional source of distrust toward him. The prevalent opinion among the population is that his unbonded state indicates that he’s too aggressive and less in control of his actions. We could use that. We could use his reluctant attraction to you to accuse him of sexual assault if you two were caught in an ambiguous situation. That would completely push public opinion in our favor and would potentially result in a civil uprising—and revolution.”
“No,” Samir said, grimacing. “I don’t want to unnecessarily spill blood and hurt our economy.”
“Unnecessarily?”
Samir sighed. “Yes. I can’t use our people that way. Civil war isn’t what I’ve been working for all these years.”
“Don’t be foolish. Do you really think that brute is capable of ruling our grand clan and would lead it to prosperity?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “We hardly know him. But he was ten when his parents died. Surely the former king had started teaching him already before his death?”
Dalatteya made a derisive sound. “Emyr wasn’t very involved in his sons’ upbringing. Between ruling the country and making my life hell, he didn’t have time for anything else.”
“Still,” Samir said. “He likely picked up something from Lord Tai’Lehr if he was raised in his house.”
“It doesn’t signify,” she said dismissively. “A good monarch should always be prepared to make some necessary sacrifices for the greater good of the country. Civil war would have collateral damage, but it’s necessary in this case.”
“No.”
“Darling,” his mother said in a chillingly gentle voice. “You do realize that if you’re against this, the only other option is to remove Warrehn from the picture?”