“Nosebleed free. How would it be possible as your consort?”
“Because any mortal woman chosen to be my queen will be getting a new life as a goddess. It also involves my brother, and I’ve put the whole thing off because asking him for favors makes him unbearable.”
I suck in my lip, thinking on this.
Essos must understand the look on my face, because he continues. “It involves bestowing divinity on my queen, but it’s still accomplished through the usual means.” He coughs, unable to meet my eye.
Essos returns to the couch with my drink but pulls it back when I reach for it. He squints at me dramatically, as if checking on my mental well-being, before handing it to me.
I glance around his office, looking for photos of anyone—Helene or her twin or Galen or their parents—and, unsurprisingly, I find none. On his desk, though, I spy the rose I gave him, still pristine.
“Do your siblings have children?”
Essos laughs, and I lower my feet from the couch. “Another complicated question. The short answer is, yes, they do, but we have been alive for millennia, which means they’re all adults with children of their own and so on and so forth. If you’re imagining family reunions where everyone is happy and we all get together for a barbeque, you would be very wrong. Fidelity has been a problem for most of my siblings. Helene might be the only faithful one, but even I can’t say for sure. She wouldn’t let me know about such an indiscretion. Galen, well, no one has seen his wife in centuries. He might have an offspring, but if he does, they’re not hers. It’s hard to keep track of my brothers’ progeny when so often my brothers themselves are unaware of their existence.”
The glass in my hand shatters, startling both of us. I wasn’t gripping it particularly hard. Perhaps I should handle only plastic cups from now on if I’m going to keep doing this. The idea that my powers could have caused the breakage momentarily distracts me from the reason it happened.
Of course, it wouldn’t be shocking to hear that Galen had a wife—I would presume that Essos is talking about me. It’s not even shocking that Galen might have children. He’s existed for millennia. What shocked me is the insinuation that Galen’s wife is still alive, and out there somewhere when he’s made it clear that I was killed.
Could this be part of the cover-up that Zara overheard?
Essos springs into action, grabbing a towel from his bar cart and gently pressing it to my thighs after making the shards of glass disappear. Once he’s done, he checks my hands to see if I cut myself, and there’s another wound over the scab I’ve been picking it.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, voice barely more than a whisper.
Essos becomes stock still as he stares at the blood on my hand. There is a faint tremor in his hand as he holds mine. The cut isn’t particularly deep, but blood is welling along the slit. I start to pull my hand back, but he holds fast to it, jolting into action. He dabs gently at the blood with his cloth. Once the blood is gone, he lifts my hand to his mouth, gently pressing his lips to the opening. Warmth suffuses the injury. I start to lean toward him, and for just a second, he moves toward me too, nearly closing the distance between us before his head hangs, breaking the moment. It’s for the best, because my heart is hammering in my chest and I don’t know how to feel. Straddling him right now to kiss the daylights out of him is not an appropriate thing to do, no matter how the desire to do so drives me to shift infinitesimally closer to him on the couch.
We sit quietly for a moment. I hope that Essos will feel obligated to fill in the silence, but instead, he seems to enjoy it. I suspect it’s where he is most comfortable. I imagine that living in the Underworld doesn’t give him much reason for entertaining.
“Do you have children?” I ask, deciding to fill the silence myself.
“I almost did,” he whispers, staring into the fire. He seems to fall deep down the well of memories, and he looks like he might drown. It’s like watching a timelapse video as he deflates, causing an ache in my chest. To lose a child is unimaginable. I don’t fight the urge to embrace him, as my own heart breaks. My hand slides to the nape of his neck as I enfold him into my arms. He fights it for a fraction of a second before he melts into me, giving up any pretense of resistance. His arms slide around my waist as we twist toward each other. He leveled me out when my own pain was blinding; maybe this time I can do the same for him.
Essos presses his face into the crook of my neck, breathing in deeply. I stroke his hair, hoping that what little of myself I can give him is enough. Maybe someday, I’ll know Essos’s story, but today is not it.
Abruptly, Essos releases me. He won’t meet my gaze, looking instead at the fireplace, but I think I see a glassy sheen to his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he turns to face me with what I have come to think of as his official mask slipping into place.
I take this as a dismissal and finish my drink, then set it aside. I pushed the wrong buttons, and he shut down, as he’s right to. I’m not sure why I think I am entitled to his secrets, given I haven’t been forthcoming with information either.“Thank you again for today. It meant everything to me.”
He stands up, shaken from his reverie. “Do you want me to have food sent to your room? Or we can go to the kitchens together and I can whip something up for you. Maybe we can finally put my carbonara to the test?”
I consider his offer, imagining him cooking for me. If I didn’t know about Galen or my murder, it would be so easy to fall in love with this man, but I can’t. Ican’tlet him keep doing these kind things for me. I shake my head and walk toward the door. “No, thank you. I’m actually not even a little bit hungry.”
Essos follows me, slowing to set his glass on his desk.
I open the door to find someone standing on the other side, and I jerk back in surprise, bumping into Essos’s chest. Essos’s hands catch my hips and pull me closer to him, and he takes a step back, like he’s trying to widen the distance between me and this stranger. The man looms there, looking down at his phone.
He looks past me at Essos. “It’s good that you’re not hungry. I need to have a long conversation with my brother.”His accent isn’t posh like that of Helene and Essos. Instead, his voice is smooth and almost American. This man is just as formal as Essos in his manner of dress, and the familial resemblance is strong, with the dark curls and strong jaw. His hair is swept back, and he seems to have a minor receding hairline. His cheeks are sunken, further enhancing the strong lines of his high cheekbones and square jaw.
“Xavier,” Essos says coolly. My eyebrows shoot up at this confirmation. The similarities between Essos and Xavier are much stronger than Essos and Helene or Galen. If I didn’t know better, I would think Galen and Helene were the twins, with their similar golden coloring.
This is hardly the warm welcome I would expect toward a brother, but it’s certainly warmer than when he greeted Galen.
“Essos. We need to chat.” When I don’t move, he looks at me pointedly. “Alone.”
I match his stare. “I would go, but you’re blocking the doorway.” I give him a blank look until he takes a step back and lets me pass. I don’t look back as I walk down the hallway, but I do pause as I hear the start of their conversation.
“Someone has filed a formal complaint, and you know my hands are tied on this. Since we’re already so close to the end, we’re moving up the Calling Ball before the complaint makes it into the papers. You have enough of an image problem as the aloof King of Death.”