Free Fires of the Desert (Children of the Desert Book 4) by Leona Wisoker Page B

Antouin’s first-born son by his first wife, then Pieas would have been in line to be Lord Sessin. Whether that potential would now transfer over to Nissa, Alyea had no idea. As far as she knew, Sessin, while heavily patriarchal, wasn’t entirely averse to allowing women to positions of real power.
    “I suspect what I don’t know about that would fill an ocean,” she muttered, and opened the Northern Book of Blood, which proved much more informative.
    Some time later, a voice from the main doorway broke her concentration: “Excuse me, Lord Alyea!”
    Alyea barely controlled the startle reflex. She looked up slowly and kept her tone cool. “Yes, Wian?”
    Her former servant stared, black eyes hard and hostile, then said, “I don’t think Lord Eredion would care for you going through his books.”
    “Then he shouldn’t have left me alone here with unlocked drawers,” Alyea said, unhurriedly closing the book and sliding it back into the drawer. “Are you saying you haven’t gone through his things?”
    A faint flush turned Wian’s skin a shade darker. “I think you should go, Lord Alyea.”
    “And I think I’ll stay,” Alyea said, leaning back in the chair. She allowed a moment to pass, watching the girl’s climbing fury, then added, “Lord Eredion told me to stay here, Wian. Is that a problem for you?”
    Wian’s nostrils flared, then pinched; she let out a hard snort. “It’s not my place to say where you can be, Lord Alyea.” She lifted her chin and, after a moment’s awkward hesitation, opted to turn away towards the bedroom.
    Alyea thought about calling her back for a talk, but there really wasn’t any point, and even less for them to say to each other. She didn’t trust the girl as far as she could heave a horse, and Wian clearly had no remnants of her former devotion left—if it had ever been real in the first place.
    How in the hells Eredion had apparently seen fit to welcome a proven traitor into his bed mystified Alyea; and now Wian had access, once again, to the palace. Shaking her head, Alyea wondered if the girl had made a play for the king yet, or if Eredion Sessin was as high as Wian dared reach.
    Then again, she wasn’t being entirely fair. She knew, first-hand now, what Wian had gone through; the treatment that had broken Wian to Kippin’s will.
    Kippin’s intent face, eyes gleaming with unholy calm, as he ever so lightly traced a razor-edged blade over her skin, creating patterns only he understood...the tickling, burning agony as line after line drew blood to the surface...the shocking white-out of vision when he drenched her with salt water laced with more dasta and then set Tevin loose for the more brutal stage once more....
    She shook her head hard to clear the memories, then set the Northern Book of Blood on the desk again and went back to reading. On impulse, she flipped to the entry for Peysimun and traced lines, curious to see if she had cousins too “common” for her mother to have mentioned—
    —stopped, frowning, and looked more closely at the entry for Lady Hama Peysimun.
    At the lack of entries linked to that name.
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she said aloud, wondering why the revelation didn’t hurt as much as she might have expected. “That certainly explains a lot.”
    The outer door opened. In what felt like one fast movement, Alyea shut the book, dropped it back in the drawer, shut the drawer and stood, leaping halfway around the desk before she slowed down for a breath.
    Eredion’s grim expression, as he came through the main door, stopped Alyea cold. Her legs suddenly unsteady, she caught herself against the desk with one hand and said on a gasping outbreath, “What hap—”
    A red-haired young man followed Eredion into the suite, and breath left her completely.
    She’d never seen him before, she was certain of that; but...she knew him. Knew that bright blue stare, remembered the touch of his large-knuckled hands. Her mouth flooded with a strange,