“I don’t have your fancy fae hearing or your weird sense of smell.” I bound off the wall and continue down the stretch of magnificent hallway. Jace falls into step beside me.
“Doesn’t mean you should allow yourself to be caught off-guard, witch. We’ll work on it.”
Pursing my lips, I slide him a sidelong glance.
“Maybe it’s just me, but that sounds kind of derogatory.”
“You are a witch.”
“But when you say it, it sounds like ‘hey, scum.’” I make a face, mimicking him.
“I did not call youscum,” he protests as we pass beneath an archway of sparkling marble.
“That’s the underlying tone.”
“How about ‘lady’ then?”
“How about Serena, you know, myname?”
“Serena.” He gives me a look of disdain, testing out my name on his tongue. “I don’t think it suits you.”
I scoff, rounding the corner. “Your charm is truly astounding.”
“So I’ve been told.” He keeps pace beside me, shoulders back, hands folded behind him. “There is a ball tonight to welcome Prince Kai to court. All courtiers are expected to be in attendance.”
“Who’s Prince Kai?” I glance up at him.
“Queen Ilspeth’s son from her first marriage to the King of Vod.”
“Vod, as in the kingdom Aegar was atwarwith, Vod?” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
He nods. “King Derek wed the widowed queen as a peace treaty. Her eldest son, Kylian, is the current King of Vod. Prince Kai is second in line to the throne, and their younger brother, Kade, is third. You’ll meet the other courtiers tonight, including the princess and her ladies. Remember to stick to the story.”
“The princess won’t ask any questions?”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “I will speak with the princess.”
“Are you going to tell her the truth?”
“As much of it as I can without endangering her.”
“She’s to be queen one day. Shouldn’t she know these things?” I press.
“This isn’t up for discussion.” His eyes land on me sharply, and I struggle to read beneath that hardened expression. “Stick to the story. Even in the presence of the princess.”
“Fine,” I relent, making a face as we reach my room and he takes up post outside my door.
I turn to him, holding it open. “You’re just going to stand there?”
“That is why I’m here,” he says in an obvious tone.
“Okay, knock yourself out.” I begin to close the door, but his large hand shoots out and stops its trajectory.
“I don’t have to worry about you climbing out of a window and scaling the wall to escape, do I?”
“I’m past trying to escape. You have nothing to worry about.”
He stares at me for a long time, and I stand in stillness as his gaze travels over my eyes, my nose, my lips. Then his hand eases from the door, and it slides shut behind him.
