"Who can understand demons? I find great pleasure in knowing that Rydstrom blames Cadeon for turning his back on his kingdom. What Rydstrom doesn't understand is that I well knew the importance of Cade-on's presence in the castle. That's why I had five hundred revenants waiting to ambush the prince. If Cadeon had obeyed his brother, he and his guard would've been slaughtered."
Interesting. "And you personally faced Rydstrom."
"He's the only being I've ever fought that lived. Instead of merely burning him to ash, I played at honor,
facing him in a sword duel in one of his strongholds. He beheaded me-the blow was true, and deadly for any other. But I rose. He used his brute strength to topple the roof, trapping me inside, and was able to escape."
Omort's hand was inching closer to her covered ankle. "Sabine, how much can I trust you?"
"Probably not as much as you can Hettiah. Shouldn't you be with her now?"
"She doesn't understand things as you do. And as much as I will it differently, she is a pale comparison to you. A dim shadow to your light."
"Did you come into my room just to state the obvious?" Her brother's attraction to Sabine wasn't fueled only by her looks. She believed Omort secretly hungered for death. In lieu of that, he hungered for her, a woman who knew death so intimately.
When he grazed his forefinger over her covered ankle, his eyes slid shut and drool collected at the corner of his lips. Stifling a shudder, she hastily rose, then crossed to the seaside balcony.
This place always calmed her, like a balm for her mind. During most of her sleepless nights, she stood out here, watching the sea.
Omort moved behind her, not touching her, but standing far too close. No warmth emanated from him. He was cold and deadened like a corpse.