Nektas nodded.

My hold on Jadis tightened as she reached for a crispy slice of bacon. “I don’t think you can have any of that.”

She tipped her hornless head up at me, her eyes woeful and bigger than before. “Sorry. I’ve been told you’re not allowed to have bacon.”

Nektas snorted. “Did Ash tell you that?”

I nodded as I picked up a fork.

“Does he think I don’t know that he lets Jadis eat whatever she wants?”

Since that was basically true, I said nothing as I got a forkful of eggs. Jadis huffed loudly as I took a bite. “Can she have eggs?”

“If you can get her to eat anything off a fork instead of with her grubby little fingers, she can.”

Grinning, I scooped up a tiny bit of eggs on the edge of the fork and lifted it to her mouth. “Open up,” I said as she eyed the fork as if it were a serpent. “Just take the eggs. Don’t bite the fork.”

Her head cocked as her tail thumped off my hip. She stretched out her slender neck, sniffing the eggs. She jerked back from the fork, hissing as she bared…shockingly sharp teeth.

Yikes.

“Watch me.” I lifted the fork to my mouth, taking a dramatically slow bite of food. “See? Yum.” I added some more eggs to the fork. “Your turn.”

It took several more displays of how to eat from a fork before Jadis eyed the utensil seriously and then snapped her head forward. She closed her mouth over the eggs, and there was only a slight tug on the fork as she retreated.

“Holy shit,” Nektas murmured, surprised. “Do you know how many people have tried to get her to eat off a utensil? Even Reaver tried.”

“Good job, Jadis.” I glanced at her father as I added more eggs to the fork. “I guess I have the magic touch.”

Jadis tugged on my arm and held on as I lifted the fork to her mouth again. It still took her a couple of moments before she took a bite.

“You just might.” Nektas cleared his throat, glancing away. “But I think you remind her of her mother.”

All I knew was that Jadis’s mother had died two years ago. I knew nothing else. “What…what was her name?”

“Halayna.” He straightened, his features tensing. “She had hair like yours. Not as pale, but close. I don’t think Jadis remembers much about her. She’s still too young, but how can we ever be sure what a child remembers and doesn’t?”

I ate the entirety of the chocolate, then took a small bite of bacon, aware of Jadis’s greedy little eyes tracking the crispy slice. “Were you married?”

“We were mated,” he corrected. “It is the same as marriage in many ways. It is not something we draken enter into lightly. The bonds we forge together in a mating can only be broken by death.”

Divorces were rare among most in Lasania, but it was far more common among the nobles than I suspected marriages built from love were. “You loved her, then?”

“With my entire being.”

I briefly closed my eyes. He still loved her. I didn’t need to read emotions to know that. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, smiling faintly when Jadis glanced up at me as she chewed her eggs. I wanted to know how Halayna had died, but I wouldn’t ask the question in front of Jadis. As Nektas had said, there was no way to know what a child remembered and didn’t. “My mother loved my father—my birth father. He died the night I was born.” I took another bite of bacon, deciding to leave out the circumstances of his death. “I wonder if they were mates of the heart, you know? Maybe the legends about such a thing are real. Because I think a part of my mother died that night, too.”

“Two halves that make a whole. Heartmates,” Nektas said, drawing my gaze. He watched closely. “That’s what the Arae call it. It’s rare but real, and I never heard of it occurring between mortals. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. The loss of one’s other half can be…catastrophic. If your parents were heartmates, then I pity your mother.”

I wouldn’t go that far. Not after doing nothing to stop Tavius or making any real attempt beyond relying on me to better the lives of her subjects. Not anymore. She was lucky I hadn’t told Nyktos to take her into the Abyss.

“But it would make sense that your parents were that,” he said, leaning into the settee.

“Why is that?” I scratched Jadis under her chin, and she hummed, her eyes closing. My smile grew.

“Heartmates usually only occur between two people whose unions are linked to some great purpose.”

“Like how a viktor is assigned to watch over someone?” I asked, speaking of those who lived numerous mortal lives to serve as protectors or guides to those the Fates determined would be harbingers of great change and purpose.

He nodded. “Perhaps fate brought your parents together to make sure the embers of life were born as Eythos intended.”

“Perhaps.” I took a drink and then offered the juice to Jadis. She turned her nose up at it. “How much do you know about what Eythos did?”

“Everything.”

“Then you know I wasn’t being foolish last night. If I can make it to Kolis, I could be successful.”

“Maybe. But at what cost?”

“Does the price matter when we’re talking about stopping Kolis?”

“The price should always matter when it comes at the cost of a life,” he said.

The crack that had formed trembled deep in my chest. “But that’s a price I will pay either way.”

“You don’t know that.” Nektas glanced at the doors at the same moment I felt a warm buzz in my chest. “He comes.”

I busied myself by shoving half a slice of buttery bread into my mouth as Nyktos entered the chamber. I didn’t look up, but I felt his stare on the back of my head. Jadis had the absolute opposite reaction, whipping around in my arms and stretching up to look over my shoulder. She let out a loud, excited chirp right in my ear as she strained against me.

The Primal swooped her up out of my arms as he passed.

“Traitor,” I muttered, peeking up to see Jadis wrapping herself around him like a little tree bear, her eyes closed and tiny claws digging into where he had his hair pulled back into a small bun at the nape of his neck.

The scene was so sweet I was surprised my teeth hadn’t started to ache.

“Sera got her to eat off a fork,” Nektas announced.

“Really? And here I thought Jadis would be eating with her…” Rubbing the little draken’s back, he turned to us. He scowled as his gaze landed on the table. On me. “Is that all you’ve eaten?”

“It is.” I picked up a napkin.

“You can’t possibly be done,” Nyktos muttered, placing Jadis on the chair by his desk. She popped up, only one crimson eye visible above the back of the chair.

“You can’t possibly be monitoring my food intake,” I retorted.

“You two are entertaining,” Nektas murmured. His daughter jumped down and scampered across the floor. Nektas bent, picked her up, and placed her on the couch. She curled into a ball beside his thigh.

“If you find this entertaining,” I said as Jadis let out a loud yawn, “you must be bored.”

Nyktos huffed. “He is.”

The draken smirked.

“The only reason I was commenting on the food was because of the Culling. You don’t want to run the risk of weakening and falling into stasis.” His eyes met mine as he came forward and picked up a slice of bacon. “If you would like something else to eat, I’m sure I can have it prepared for you.”

“That’s not necessary.” I fiddled with the hem of the tablecloth. “Besides, I don’t think there’s enough food or sleep in either realm that will prevent what’s coming.”

“And what’s that?” Nyktos asked.

“Death.” I jerked my chin at the Primal. “And I’m not talking about you.”

Nektas gave me a small grin at that. “Death is not a foregone conclusion.”

“Is it not?” I started tapping my foot.

“No,” he said.

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. I had no idea what Nektas was thinking then. If he knew everything, he would know that only the love of the man I had planned to kill—someone actually incapable of love—could save me. He was aware of that.