"Thank you,” he finally managed.
"Are you ready for today?" she asked.
"Not sure what to be ready for," he admitted as he ran his hand through his hair again. "Ghost of Fire. Makes me wonder if it's some trial of flames. What would that mean for my form? Do I need weapons? Do I—“
He heard her huff at his side and turned to find her smirking at him. "What?" he asked.
"I wasn't aware you knew how to worry.”
"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said. "A lot you should learn considering you'll be taking my hand," he added.
"Why don't we start with these lies you say about your kingdom before you start picking out gambeson colors," she suggested.
"No need to search for colors.” With a move of his hands, he motioned up and down her body as though presenting her. "Black."
"Was that supposed to be obvious?" she bantered. "I would have thought you to choose navy."
"Navy blends with my fire. I enjoy a bit of black."
"Dangerous Prince, indeed." Her sly brow lifted, and he knew she was messing with him on purpose.
He straightened and turned, hand pressing into the mattress behind her. Her sideways gaze stayed on him, and he saw the whisper of a smile on her lips. She didn't move as he leaned in towards her, his head settling beside hers, nose brushing her cheek.
"Should you like to know how dangerous?" he asked in her ear.
"Highly doubt you have the time to prove yourself before this trial," she dared.
"If you think it would take me longer than two minutes to bring youscreamingwith your end, you're wrong."
She pulled back, bottom lip dropping in disbelief. "That's the most preposterous thing to ever come out of your mouth."
"Wit and promises are not all my mouth is capable of."
For a moment, she didn’t move, and it made him curious as to whether she was actually considering his proposal. It was such a long moment that he leaned forward again. His lips brushed against her jaw, and he swore he saw her eye roll.
Reverie cleared her throat and moved back just as he opened his mouth—his intentions to suck on her throat until she stopped him.
So close.
She pushed to her feet, hands fumbling in front of her. “I think your Second is waiting on you,” she told him.
Just as she turned, Dorian stood, and he grasped her wrist to pull her back. He heard her breath catch as she came flush against him. The moment he blinked, her knife was once more at his throat. Dorian almost smiled, but he didn't take it any further.
She’d done exactly what he had expected her to.
He had meant to mock her and lean in to the knife, but the sunlight hit her hair. It bounced off the flecks of brown in her lavender eyes and the white freckles on her light brown cheeks, and his intentions went out the door.
"Sometimes, I wonder if you know how mesmerizing you are," he said.
She scoffed and pushed on his chest. "How many women have you told that to, Prince? I'm sure my sisters have heard it a few times."
"Your sisters have nothing on you," he said firmly. "I hope you know I mean that."
Her eyes flickered over him once, and then she backed out of the room. "I'll see you downstairs."
Dorian sat back on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. His own words repeated back to him in his head, and he wondered if he sounded as stupid as he felt.
Corbin was leaning in the doorway when he looked up.
