Oristos loosed an uncomfortable sound that might have been an attempt at laughter, but Rishi was the only one of them that still smiled. Even with the threat of retribution so clear, Andar did not loosen. He was the stillness before storm. Amused, Rishi patted his knee.

"Don't trouble yourself so, husband." Her voice still trilled, but her eyes found Yalira's before returning to the king beside her. "This is good news."

Though she was filled with lightness, Andar's waiting intensity did not soften. His fury might have been under guard, but the shadow of it pushed against his words. "I fail to see your optimism, Rishi."

She stood and stretched, contented and feline. Her lips turned coy. "You don't?"

"Enough games."

For a moment, Yalira thought that the queen might tease him further. She clearly enjoyed tormenting him, but Rishi shrugged off his terse reply. "You have your answer and new promise to your legacy." Rishi raised her glass to Yalira. "Your clever wife has unraveled these dark threads. Don't let pride cloud this victory."

Yalira's stomach twisted uncomfortably as a fresh wave of acid nausea crept up her throat. A growing bloom of inadequacy unfurled in her chest—the realization that she had made an irreparable mistake. The weight of the poisonous secret had been too much for her to know alone, but Yalira had not anticipated Rishi's gain in sharing it. She had not imagined that Rishi would use it in such easy leverage. Or that sharing Andar's attention would leave her with growing dread.

Oristos seemed to feel the same. His jaw was tight as he leaned forward.

"It's not a victory yet," he said, his mismatched eyes bright. Though he had seem near convinced Valen was guilty of this unforgivable crime, he hesitated in its conviction. "We need more than an accusation to convince the forum."

Before Andar could answer, Rishi fixed Oristos with a haughty look, her chin aloft.

"Those details can wait, can't they?" She purred, considering the emptying carafe of wine with a raised eyebrow. "Can you fetch us another, Gallus? I think celebration is in order."

The mute guardian did not move from his position, and the seriousness of his expression sparked Rishi's smile. She turned to consider the rest of them, their solemn faces. A riot of her laughter echoed.

"I'll get it myself then," she said. The light fabrics of her night clothes whispered as she turned, the image of midnight and loveliness. Her eyes gleamed they washed over Andar. "Unless anyone wants to join me?"

Andar stood, but did not speak. He nodded curtly at Gallus in silent command offering Rishi his arm and escorting her into the night-darkened corridor. Though a strange, weak tendril of jealousy called for his attention, he did not turn.

For the first night since he'd moved her to his rooms, since they'd surrendered to the insistent pull between them, Andar left. The room that seemed too small to hold him now was cavernous in his absence.

This is what you want, she reminded herself. Clinging to that thought did not stop the burn of jealousy, the chill of dread. She had not cherished the balance that they had found, but with this new tip in the scales, she feared her world might unravel.

"You have to take care, Yalira." Oristos spoke in a pained whisper. It was familiar. That same broken call that escaped him each moment Andar showed Yalira fondness, each time he ignored the man who loved him so deeply.

"Rishi is our friend," she reminded them both. The words tasted like sand in her mouth.

He shook his head. "She is her own friend foremost."

In his terse answer, Yalira felt a tug of discomfort—not quite dishonesty, but something less than truth. Fixed to the blood-red of the wine still left in untouched glasses, Oristos kept his eyes from her.

Yalira grasped for understanding and voiced her own accusation. "Do you suspect her?"

In a stuttering sigh, Oristos turned to her. He glanced at Gallus, still silent and waiting, and dropped his voice to little more than a breath.

"How did you uncover this treachery?" Brown and blue were sharp in misery and calculation. "It's more than the correlation you implied, isn't it?"

Yalira nodded slowly. She waited for him to explain, to tie his question back to hers. He mistrusted Rishi, there was no doubt, but Yalira had not missed that he'd been careful with his questions.

He took her hands in his. Between their cold fingers, there was barely a flicker of warmth to be shared. "I knew you would not be so foolish to come forward without certain confidence."

Yalira's mouth curved without humor. Memories of the blood promise, delivering Sasha's child, swallowing nightshade came to mind. "I've done more thoughtless things than that."

"Not when it comes to provoking Andar." His hand tightened around hers. "Yalira, if this is untrue, it will break him."

"It is true," Yalira whispered. "For all my doubt and arrogance, I cannot ignore the truth when it calls so clearly."

"How do you know?"

The weight of another confession pulled at her lips. Despite his claim to a truth-seeing eye, a gift from Antala, Oristos did not believe in divinity. He was a man of rationality and thought and any belief in the gods was only as man-made constructs, personifications of lessons and morals for the soft-minded. From the moment of their meeting, he'd taken her abilities as evidence of cleverness and politely ignored her association with the goddess she served.

"Despite my reluctance to believe in their place in our world, Antala, Eheia—whatever divine being interferes in my life—has made it known. As certain as I am of the breath in my body, the sunrise tomorrow, I know the tonic is poison."

She thought he would doubt her, but Oristos only frowned, his blue eye unnaturally bright in the hearth's glow. A doubting man held in unwavering belief.

"Do they speak now? These goddesses?" He paused, as if to consider the weight of his next words. "Do they show your true allies?"

Yalira shook her head. "I cannot ask them."

"Why?"

The ritual of the new moon, that dark climb through the mountain, had always filled her with unease. That dark surrender had never come easy, and now that she understood the truth of Antalis?

"Each answer, each truth, each promise of power comes with a price I cannot pay."

He paused.

"Then do not pay it." His eyes turned gentle as he brushed his thumb against her cheek. "I will not see you harmed."

Yalira held his wrist and smiled. "You are good to me."

"Someone has to look after you," he murmured. "Seeing as you're still working yourself half-to death." His voice then dropped to a whisper, featherlight. "Yalira, how long have you known?"

She frowned at that. Her brows tightened. "I only learned of the poison this afternoon. As I said, when Theodis dropped the vial—"

Her words trailed away, as did the hand against her cheek. Oristos faltered, as if he had words locked away behind patience and cleverness. His mismatched eyes were held to hers.

"You don't know," he breathed. That breath became stunned laughter. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed again. "A healer!"

A prickle of impatience skirted across her skin, but Yalira waited. The sharp, incredulous exclamation needled like an insult; the first true unkindness Oristos had ever shown her. How strange that a single word could hold his disbelief, his incredulity. In a single word, any regard he once had for her cleverness slipped into amazed condescension.

"Have you really not recognized the signs of pregnancy in your own body?"

A/N:

Sorry for the delays! With my new plans for re-writing Oleander, I do aim to finish the story for WattPad. To do so, the chapters going forward will be slightly less polished, but I hope having answers to the mysteries will make up for it :) 

Anyone see this reveal coming?