I pause, stopping in the middle of the stone pathway.

The Bargainer turns to me, his brows drawn together.

“If I’m able to get more information for you from the children, will you take off more beads?” I ask.

He cocks his head. “Why do you wish to see them?” he probes.

As if it isn’t obvious. “That woman back there is frightened of these children and of what they’ve told her. They are the ones we should be interviewing.”

Des sighs. “I am oathbound against using my magic on children, and short of that … I have been to the nursery a thousand times, and a thousand times I’ve tried to talk with them. Not once has it worked.”

“But you’ve never brought a siren with you,” I say.

Every time I close my eyes, I see Gaelia’s beseeching stare and her hopelessness. I can’t seem to just leave it alone.

The corners of Des’s eyes crinkle. “This is true, I’ve never brought a spitfire siren to do my dirty work.” He stares at me for a bit longer. Finally, reluctantly, he nods. “I’ll take you to the children. I doubt it will be very helpful with me there, but I’ll take you all the same.

“However,” he adds, “the moment I sense anything amiss, we’re leaving, no questions asked.”

The protectiveness in his is voice sends shivers down my arms.

“I can work with that.”

“Whose children does the royal nursery take care of?” I ask as we make our way through the palace once more, on our way to that very nursery. It seems strange to me that these peculiar kids, as Gaelia put it, are right inside the castle, in the very heart of the kingdom.

Des clasps his hands behind his back. “The nursery takes care of children orphaned by warrior parents—our way of honoring their final sacrifice—children of nobility working in the palace, and of course, any children of the royal family—including mine.”

“Y-yours?” I echo.

Why had I never considered the possibility Des might have children?

A warrior king like him? He’d have no shortage of women … it’s possible.

Desmond peers over at me. “Does that bother you?”

I shake my head, not meeting his gaze, even as my stomach twists.

I can feel his eyes on me.

“Truth:” he says, “how would you feel if I told you I had children?”

The moment the question leaves his lips, his magic closes around my windpipe.

I clutch my throat, glaring at him. “Some warning would be nice,” I rasp out.

My windpipe constricts. Not the response it wants.

I feel the magic drag the words out, much like my magic dragged answers out of Gaelia.

“I would be jealous,” I say.

God am I glad we’re the only two people walking down this particular hallway. It’s embarrassing enough to admit this to Des without having any additional audience.

“Why?” he asks.

The magic doesn’t let up.

I grit my teeth together, but it doesn’t stop the answer from slipping out. “Because I’m a horrible person.”

The magic squeezes harder. Not truthful enough, apparently.

“B-because,” I try again, “I don’t want anyone else to share that experience with you.”

“Why?” he presses.

You’ve got to be kidding me. The magic’s a noose around my neck.

“Because that’s an experience I’d like to share with you,” I rush to say. Immediately, my cheeks flush.

The magic eases up, but just barely.

Des’s eyes soften. “You’d want to have my child?”

“Not anymore,” I wheeze.

But even now the magic senses I lie. It squeezes my windpipes, choking me.

“Yeeesss,” I hiss out.

All at once the magic releases me, and I know several beads have just disappeared without even looking.

I don’t give a flying fuck.

I’m seeing red.

Des looks so pleased. Pleased and aroused.

“We will be returning to this conversation, cherub,” he promises.

That’s about the moment I pounce on him.

He grunts as I push against the wall and loop my arm around his neck.

Oh my sweet baby Jesus am I angry.

He steps away from the wall, forcing me to lose my footing as he pries my arms off of his neck. Before I can attack him again, he pulls me in close, our torsos flush with one another.

“You had no right to do that,” I say, whisper soft.

Technically he did have every right. That’s what happens when you bargain with Des. He can take whatever he wants as repayment.

His eyes move to my heated cheeks. “You’re embarrassed.”

Of course I’m embarrassed. Who wants to tell the guy that ripped her heart out that, hey boy hey, I still want your babies.

He runs a hand down my back. “You would not be so embarrassed if you knew my thoughts.”

Now my breath catches.

“Rest assured, cherub,” he continues. “I don’t have any children.” He pulls me closer, his lips brushing my ear. “Though I’m always willing to change that.”

Now I try to pull away. “Des, let me go.”

“Hmm,” he says, his hand sliding down the back of one of my thighs, “I think not.” He loops it around his waist. I try to jerk my leg out of his grasp, but the effort is futile. He then wraps my other leg around his hips. “I think I like you right here.”