A Kiss of Venom (An Araneae Nation Novella) (9 page)

“If I convinced Lourdes to let you leave with Maisy,” he asked, “where would you go?”

“Home.” We had nowhere else to go.

“What if I don’t want…” he swallowed, “…my daughter to grow up without her father?”

I set my jaw. “She’s done well without him up to this point.”

He nodded as though my response was the one he had expected.

A knock on the door preceded Henri. He strode to Armand. “Lourdes is asking for you.”

Armand clasped his brother’s shoulder before angling a grim look toward me. “I will speak with Lourdes and see what can be done for you, for our…
for Maisy’s sake. I can’t make any promises.”

“I’m not asking for one.” I shifted onto my opposite side. “I know you don’t keep them.”

Chapter Five

Three days passed with no word from Armand. Henri grew frustrated with my constant demands to see Maisy. If I hadn’t stormed into his laboratory and smashed one of his percolating experiments, he might have let me stay in the bedroom where he had stashed me until further notice. It was part of his office and answered my earlier questions about where he spent his nights. Obviously it was
there.

Destroying months’ worth of work in a single tantrum hadn’t impressed him.

That’s how I ended up locked in a cell, in a room in the rear of his laboratory, a section he called the bastille.

Forehead pressed to the bars, I was debating where a hunger strike would get me when the latch on the door began
click-click-clicking
. I expected a surly Henri. What I got was a disheveled Armand.

I gestured around us. “Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”

He shut the door behind him. “We have to talk.”

“We do. Let’s start with the obvious.” I walked down the length of the cell. “Where is Maisy?”

He held up his hands. “She’s with Lourdes.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why has your sister taken such a keen interest in her?”

His eyebrows climbed. “Besides the fact Maisy is her niece?”

“Yes.” I stopped when I stood before him. “I expected Lourdes to wash her hands of her.”

“She can’t. Even if she wanted to, and she doesn’t, Maisy is a very special girl.”

I snorted. “You mean she can be capitalized upon.”

“Aren’t you curious as to why I haven’t been back to see you before now?” he asked.

“No.” I leaned a shoulder into the bars. “I didn’t expect to see you again until my sentencing.”

He frowned. “I told you I would speak with Lourdes on your behalf.”

I shrugged. “And I told you I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

His fingers brushed my shoulder, the simple touch raising gooseflesh down my arms.

“I waited to come until I had answers,” he said, much too close, “for all of us.”

My stomach tightened. “Well? Are you sharing or not?”

“Maisy fasted for two days to cleanse her system.” He eased back. “We tested her.”

“Tested—?” I whirled around. “Is that why I was put in here? So the laboratory would be empty and you could run tests on my daughter? What have you done? Is she all right? When can I see her?”

His hands were up
, defensive again. “Listen—”

“Talk faster.” I slapped cold metal with my open palms. “What types of tests?”

“They were noninvasive, and I never left her side, not even to see you. Maisy is fine. She was hungry. She’s eating now as a matter of fact.” To placate me, he added, “She’ll be in here to see you once she’s finished. Before then, we need to discuss her results. There’s something you must know.”

I braced my head against the bars
, wondering if he would ever make his point.

“Her eyes are lavender,” he said by way of explanation.

“I’ve noticed.”

“You don’t understand.” He tried again. “It’s a trait passed down through my family. If she were a boy…but she isn’t. There are no records of female offspring
having lavender eyes. It’s an indicator for the males, should any generation lack a female to ascend as maven. I have it. That’s why I’m heir and not Henri or even Channing. Birth order doesn’t matter. Only the preservation of the clan does.”

“I remember the talk your mother gave me.” I mimicked her crisp inflection, reciting the speech she had burned into my memory. “
Females of my line are born with grave responsibilities. It is their duty and privilege to nurture the spinners under our care. In the event a female child is not born in a given generation, the marked son will rise to power after his mother’s passing.”
She had reached for my hand.
“Armand is that son, my second heir. In the interest of protecting our people’s livelihood, their futures, he must wed a full-blooded Araneidae female, which you are not. I am so sorry, dear.”

His head bowed, and I regretted my words the instant I realized it would sound as though I were mocking his recently departed mother. Exhaling hard, I owned my mistake. “That was cruel of me. I want to believe I’m above such petty behavior, but
my claws come out whenever I’m around you.”

His smile was faint. “I never minded your claws.”

An awkward blush rose in my cheeks. “You were saying?”

“The test,” he said, bringing our conversation full circle, “is the same one Lourdes and I endured when we were children. We put four spinners in a room and set them to a task. In the next room, four more were set to the same task—after Maisy touched the tips of her fingers to theirs. Six hours later, the first room was examined. The silk was fine, almost too thin, and lacked the luster associated with our silk. Their output was the minimum of what is required of any spinner hoping to secure a spot on the maven’s roster. When the second room was examined, their silk was thick and pearlescent, their output four times what the first room accomplished.” His grin smacked of pride. “She has the talent.
”

I was honestly puzzled. “
Not to be contrary, but wouldn’t any female of your line do?”

“
It’s uncommon for a male to be heir above a female,” he admitted. “Pascale is the rightful heir, but her spinnerets are underdeveloped. She barely spins silk and produces no hormone whatsoever.”

“I don’t—I can’t…” I tried wrapping my head around what he was saying. Our child. His heir.

“In the event Lourdes and I are ever compromised,” he said, “Maisy will ascend to rule.”

Legs wobbling, I leaned against the bars for support. I clawed at my shirt, its collar chok
ing me. I couldn’t breathe. My knees buckled, and I hit the ground gasping. Dark splotches blinked in and out of my vision. I was babbling by the time Armand popped the lock and rushed in to crouch before me.

“You can’t have her,” I gasped.

His arms came around me, pulling me against him. “I think we both know that isn’t true.”

I thrashed in his hold. “She’s all I have.”

“No, she isn’t.” His arms tightened. “You have me.”

I got an arm loose and punched him. “You presumptuous bastard
. You think that’s all it takes?”

Working his jaw, he winced. “You’re stronger than I remember.”

I shook my hand to lessen the sting. “Things change.”

“Ten years is a long time.”

I huffed the hair from my eyes. “Sometimes it’s not long enough.”

“I
missed you,” he said through a tight voice. “Every day. For years.”

“
I could tell by the way you approached me that first night. So gallant, holding the covers open so I could slide right into your bed.” I glared. “Try again.”

“I stopped seeing you in every female’s face the night I read the letter from your mother, telling me you had died of shame.” He sat beside me, tucking me under his arm. “I believed her. I see now I was a fool.” His voice lowered. “I never even looked. I let the most important thing in my life go and didn’t put up a fight. I was young. I was a coward. But I loved you more than I have ever loved another.” He scoffed. “The female I was betrothed to? She left the nest. I don’t know when. All I know is her father petitioned Lourdes for the right to break our betrothal, and she fought it until the girl’s family threatened to leave Erania and take four of our best spinners—her brothers—with them. When I heard, I begged Lourdes to set the girl free. She didn’t want me any more than I wanted her.”

“Lourdes just let her go?” I had trouble believing she would break an alliance so readily.

“She was newly wed, and I was desperate.” He leaned his head back. “She pitied me, knowing I would never have what she has with Rhys—a love match, a soul match—and she gave me a handful of years to pick my own bride from the females whose families were most likely to give me an heir.”

“After all this—” I had to ask, “—you want our daughter forced into the same role as you were?”

“Maisy is female. She produces the hormone herself.” He squeezed my arm. “She will be free to marry who she wants
. Well, within reason. But she will have a choice. She can follow her own heart.”

“But her silk—it’s not unbreakable. I would have noticed when she went through a phase trying to restring her first cello with her silk.” I remembered her disappointment when she failed so clearly.

“You took after your mother, and Maisy took after you.” He lifted my hand, running his fingers over the spinnerets in the tips. “Her silk can’t be used, it would compromise the integrity of the piece she contributed to, but that’s a godsend. She won’t be required to work in the spinning rooms. She’ll be allowed to continue her studies. Maisy can learn from the best teachers. She’ll want for nothing.”

“I won’t make that decision for her.” It wasn’t fair to her to steal the choice from her.

“She’s a child,” he said firmly. “She can’t—”

“Maisy had to grow up fast,” I said just as firm. “Don’t discount her wishes because of her age.”

His sigh ruffled my hair. “If she’s half as stubborn as you are...”

“Her little finger is twice as stubborn as I am.” And he would soon be wrapped around it.

“A little girl.” He laced his fingers with mine. “Thank you.”

I glanced up at him. “You’re welcome.”

His proud smile gave my heart the sweetest ache.

He rose with a grunt when the tumblers began catching. I thought he intended to leave me there, but he reached down a hand instead. “Do you want her to see you behind bars?” He tugged me onto my feet and used that hand to draw me into him. He braced his forehead to mine. “We need to talk.”

I stared at his lips, remembering how they tasted. “We did talk.”

His finger traced the neckline of my shirt. “May I visit you tonight?”

I wrinkled my nose at my cell in the bastille. “It’s really only meant to hold one.”

Lowering his mouth, he let his breath feather hot over my skin. “Stubborn.”

“If I’m still here tonight, stay with Maisy.” I patted his cheek. “Don’t breathe new life into old ghosts.”

His lips brushed mine. “I’ll see you later.”

Lifting a hand to my mouth, I battled the surge of hope rising in my chest.

I knew better than to trust in Armand’s predictions. This wasn’t the first time he’d left me with a promise sweet on my tongue only to have the taste turn bitter when his
best intentions burned to ash.

He exited as Lourdes entered. They exchanged quiet words that left me straining my ears.

A wide palm grasped the door leading into the bastille and pushed it open, the better for Paladin Rhys to glower at me. His other hand gripped the hilt of his sword. A blind female couldn’t miss the murder in his gaze. However well the maven might be taking news of my botched attempt to rid her of a sibling, her husband’s every line held suspicion. Given Lourdes’s family’s too recent tragedy, he was right to be worried. Lourdes noticed her husband’s glaring and patted his arm.

Armand glanced at me, brow puckered, but he left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Lourdes studied me from my bare feet to my uncombed hair. “It’s been a long time, Astrid.”

I didn’t correct her. I stood there and let her look her fill.

“Did you know who I was when you told me Armand went to his room alone?”

A slight grin curved her lips.
“I suspected you weren’t who you said you were.”

I wasn’t sure how much I trusted her smile.
“What gave me away?”

“Nothing you did.
” She inclined her head. “Your disguise was convincing.”

I
started to cross my arms, but when Rhys tensed, I lowered them. “Then what?”

She cut him a glare he dismissed
, then turned back to me. “When Armand saw you, he jerked upright as if a master puppeteer had yanked his strings.”

I scoffed.
“How is that different than his response to any scantily clad female?”

“
Armand uses social events as an excuse to drink until his eyes are floating, and then he beds the nearest female. It’s a pattern I don’t approve of, but one I have grown accustomed to. So imagine my surprise when he stopped shy of being utterly sloshed the night of my anniversary celebration and then stumbled to his room alone.” She cast Rhys a look from beneath her lashes. “I might have let my husband tempt me into forgetting about Armand’s behavior altogether, but I—”

“—you are far too clever for that,” he
finished with a slow grin.

She hushed him with a gentle shove and approached me.

“When I saw Armand escorting Maisy, I noticed the resemblance immediately. We all inherited the shape of our mother’s face.” Her tone softened. “In that regard, Maisy could pass for Pascale at that age.”

At last her interest began making sense.
“You thought I brought Maisy here to ask Armand for gold.”