He paused when he finally stood directly before her, close enough for her to count every scar etched into his face. “I am a person,” he finished on a whisper. “Not a plaything.”
For once, she could see his feelings emblazoned so plainly in his gaze.
His irritation. His frustration. His fury.
She could only imagine all the indignities he had suffered over his forty years of life—an entire lifetime spent fighting for respectin a world that saw him aslessmerely because of his stature. Heat burned its way across her cheeks; she broke her gaze from his first, glancing away.
She should have known better.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “That was very rude of me. It will not happen again.”
He stepped back at once, leaving her once again entirely too aware of the absence of his nearness.
What was wrong with her today?
Wrapping her arms around her midsection, holding herself tight, she reminded herself that she was still angry with him. She might have made a misstep in how she treated him, but Aldric had certainly made a misstep with her first.
“And just so you know,” she abruptly snapped, returning to their previous topic of conversation, “I know good and well what my people are saying. I don’t need you shouting it at me in the middle of the corridor.”
Sounding entirely too much like her godfather, he complained, “I was hardly shouting.”
“You were speaking of things that should not be spoken of in a public place,” she expounded before adding, with an exasperated sigh, “I am not going to stand here and quibble words with you, Aldric. The point is that I am well aware of what the people are saying. They fear we will lose Mysai. They fear we will lose Arlund. They fear we will lose all of Elmoria.”
She swallowed hard. “But I am not going to let that happen. We need to see Arlund secured immediately so that my people will feel safe again. Andyouare the best man for that job, are you not?”
His mouth worked over words he didn’t speak, though she could plainly see he desperately wished to argue with her.
She didn’t intend to give him that opportunity.
“Do you deny that you are the feared and infamous Crow of Drakmor?” she asked, challenging him. “The man responsible for holding the Kuni-Drakmor border for the past fifteen years? The man rumored to be responsible for the massacre of tens of thousands of enemy soldiers?”
His jaw locked, turning him into a man carved from dark sandstone: hard and utterly unreadable. “I deny nothing.”
“Then why do you hesitate to ride into battle when it is in my name rather than your own?” she demanded. “Is this a matter of pride or a fear of death?”
She almost wanted to laugh but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Here was a man who had held his country’s border foryearswith only a ragtag crew of misfits to fight on his behalf, and even he was reluctant to do battle on her behalf.
Was her cause so truly hopeless?
Aldric clenched his fists and snarled, “It is none of those things, Sera.” His tone lent her nickname a vicious edge.
She was swift to remind him, “You may not call me that name.”
But he spoke over her. “Nor do I fear death.” Flinging his arms wide as if the darkness from her vision that he had named Death were in the room with them, he called out, “Let it come for me!”
She winced at the sudden increase in his volume. “Then what is it that you fear?”
“I’m notafraid, you insufferable woman,” he insisted again, visible frustration breaking through his careful attempts to appear apathetic. He glanced away, his right hand lifting to rub at his beard while his left tapped out a staccato rhythm against his hip.
Seraphina frowned as she watched him. She had never seen the Crow fidget before.
Without answering her question, he turned away and started back toward the door. “Never mind,” he tossed out over his shoulder as he went. “Have it your way. I will lead the campaign in Arlund.”
“What?” Was that truly it? He was just…going to give up and walk away? “Aldric!” she called after him to no avail. Still, he made for the door, not bothering to look back her way.
She strode after him, refusing to let him walk away. “Aldric Hargrave, you come back here at once and speak to me like an adult. Why do you not want to go to Arlund?”
He wheeled around to face her again, his features twisted with clear disdain. “What good will speaking do? For all that you like to cite my expertise, you don’t seem to respect my opinion enough to heed any advice I try to give. I’m simply your pet bogeyman that you hope will frighten your enemies into submission.”
