The Dragon Prince's Consort

Thirty-Four

Lying next to her, Valen rubbed his hand up and down Fang's smooth, warm skin. Between these soft and languid touches he pressed kisses to her face and neck while his tail curled over her legs and wrapped around her ankle. Once she caught her breath, Fang rolled towards him on her side. Their fingers twisted together, Fang's gold-lacquered nails bright against Valen's deep red skin, and for a time Valen absorbed the sweep of her eyelashes, her sweet, short little nose, the curve of her reddened lips. He studied the strange shape of her rounded ears, their lack of pinnae making her moods difficult to read if one didn't know to look elsewhere; without a tail she couldn't slash the air in irritation or swing it with contentment, but her dark brows and mobile, expressive face told Valen more than words could say.

Fang blinked. "You're staring."

Valen smiled. "Well, you are a human." He wrapped his arm around her. "Better get used to it, Lady Consort."

"Not much I can do about that." Fang shrugged one shoulder. "What do you think Tias will do when that happens?"

"Ideally, he'll faint on the live feed and have to be carried out while billions watch. Personally I'd love to see that, but I think realistically he'll just smile and nod because billions will be watching – he cares more about how he looks to the Empire than he does anything else."

"You don't think he'll try something later?"

Valen chuckled. "Is this the kind of pillow-talk I should expect from now on? Let me worry about Tias, Firemother knows I have the experience."

Fang traced the outline of tattooed scales on his chest. "Sorry... I just don't want to be the reason he does something crazy, like have you assassinated or something."

"He wouldn't dare. Besides, it's not you he hates – anyone who would align themselves with me is suspect in his eyes."

"But why?" Fang flattened her hand, fingers spreading over the tattoo's lines. "There has to be a reason he hates you so much, and I know everyone is dancing around it but no one will talk about it."

Valen's hearts sank and his stomach turned cold and sour. 'Have you told her what happens to the women who get too attached to you?' 'You should tell her, she should hear it from you first...' He'd almost forgotten that Fang didn't know the true reason his brother hated him, the 'secret' that was common knowledge to every Drass. Yena was right, though, Fang would find out someday and knowing her she'd be more upset that he hadn't told her. Fang deserved to know, and she deserved to be told by the person responsible for it all. He swallowed down the sick, tight feeling in his throat – caused by guilt, not alcohol – and resolved to tell her the truth. "Tias hates me because I killed our mother."

"Sorry, what?" Fang's brows pulled together, creasing the skin over her nose in a small vertical line. Her face did that when she worried, or didn't understand a new Drass word, or when Valen tried to explain an aspect of the Empire that confused her. Now she looked at him as though she hadn't understood a word he'd said, and behind her confusion Valen sensed doubt and concern. "Did you say 'killed'?"

Valen closed his eyes. He didn't want to look anymore, didn't want to watch her eyes as she realized the monster she'd been forced to tie herself to. Valen nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but... I wanted to protect you from Tias, and I can't do that unless you're a Lady Consort. I understand if you want to back out–"

"What happened? Valen, you can't just say something like that and not tell me what happened." Valen forced on eye open, expecting disgust and hate. That's what he got from Tias for almost thirty years, why would Fang be any different? He hadn't lied to her, but not telling her before she agreed to his plan had been lying by omission and just as wrong. But when he peered through the tiny crack he didn't see horror or even anger – rather, Fang's dark eyes searched his face with sadness and sympathy. "Please, tell me."