He didn’t let her go. The more she squirmed, the closer his arm pinned her against him. She felt his lips grazing her neck, and a jolt ofsomethingshot through her. Her skin burned; he was so close, he could nip at her throat.
“Likely story …” he drawled. His breath hit her skin, and the night’s previous flirting flooded her mind.
Semras’ mouth dried up.
The inquisitor’s lips brushed against the sensitive shell of her ear. “If you intend to seduce me with such cheap tricks—”
Themas saved her. “My lord Inquisitor, Semras needs to eat now if we wish to follow your schedule,” he said, placing a plate of food down in front of her. The sound of ceramic hitting wood in a loud thud broke Velten’s focus on her.
His arm retreated, and Semras released her breath. An odd warmth lingered around her waist, like an imprint of him branded on her skin. She mouthed a silent thanks for Themas’ intervention. Her face could have melted from the heat of her mortification.
Inquisitor Velten felt no such shame. “Then go make sure that Pagan is ready to leave. I will take care ofmyguest.”
Face set in a blank expression, Themas bowed to each of them.
As soon as the knight was gone, she glowered at the inquisitor. “It was themaid,” she said icily.
Velten hummed, his attention fixed away from her. She followed his eyes to a few sword-bearers scattering out of the common room with unnatural haste. Only a handful of Venator guards still remained in the room now, heads leaning on their hands—clearly too busy nursing a hangover to have noticed their altercation.
“I could help them,” Semras thought out loud, chewing on a slice of bread.
“You will do no such thing, witch.”
Clearly, the inquisitor was still pissed and making it everyone’s problem.
“Weren’t you the one who said I should ‘earn my bread’?” she asked, waving in his face her last bite of bread.
Grinning wickedly, he caught her wrist. “These men drank beyond their limit of their own volition. Let them deal with the consequences on their own. That is the only way they will learn.”In his eyes, a flicker of mischief lit up. “And so should you learn too. If you wave something tasty in front of me, witch, do not be surprised when I take a bite.” Velten sank his teeth into the bread, then ripped it out of her hand before swallowing it whole.
“You—!”
At her indignant expression, the inquisitor let out a bark of laughter.
Glowering at him, Semras quickly dragged her plate between her arms. “Don’t you have anything better to do than antagonize me?”
“I do, which is why I have subordinates to delegate my duties to.” The inquisitor rested his elbow on the table and leaned his head into his hand. His eyes roamed over her face.
“Delegate, hm? What a peculiar way to pronounce ‘harass,’” she quipped. “What is your conflict with Themas?”
His smile turned down in a disarming, childish sulk. “You call him by his given name with no title? I did not know the two of you were so close now. What about the soot-stained boy from your village?” he taunted. “What about all the considerationIshowed you? How heartless you are, witch.”
“If you want to show me consideration,Inquisitor,how about trying to use my name? If you can even remember it.”
He hummed, then smirked. “No.”
Semras breathed deeply. “Great. I suppose I should be thankful that you do not ignore me at least, unlike your other knight. The only time he acknowledges my presence is when he glares at me.”
Velten dropped his smile. “Sir Ulrech has his reasons to distrust you. I suggest you give him space; you will not find a friend in him. Not right now, at least.”
“I doubt any witch would find a friend in him. I won’t take it personally,” Semras said. Then, reluctantly, she added, “… Thank you. For the warning about him. And the suggestion too, Iguess.” Her eyes fell on her forgotten breakfast lying before her, and she fumbled with the cutlery to dig back into it.
Velten didn’t react to her gratitude. Curious, she threw a discreet glance at him, and found him pensively looking out the window.
An odd urge to bring his attention back to her won over her reason. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked distractedly.
“Would I find a …”—her heart fluttered uncomfortably—“… a friend in you?”
