He’s a prick,she reminded herself, and that only made his appearance all the more frustrating.
Why was italwaysthe heartless ones who looked so damned good on the outside?
She felt like she had daggers in her eyes as she took him in.
His sword was of extremely fine make, and his thickly knotted braid was so elegant it could only have been done by a skilled servant. It helped to reveal the sharp lines of his perfect face, his full lips …and the enormous red scar that spanned down his cheek. Not nearly as hideous as hers, becauseof courseit served to his rugged warrior’s appearance.
It was fresher than she’d initially thought. The skin was still angry at its edges, perhaps only a few months old.
Strange, that an Ehvermage at the Citadel hadn’t healed him.
She thought the Sacred were not fond of scars, especially royals, for it marred them, made them look far lesspureto their pillared god.
Arawn’s eyes snapped to hers as he caught her studying him. ‘We’ll have to walk. It’s a mile uphill.’ He glanced down to her ankles as if he could still see the shadow of her old chains. ‘Can you walk, or will you require assistance?’
No,she thought.I’m weaker than I’ve ever been. I survived on stale bread and salt-tinged water for two years, and now I’m thin as bones, freezing to death in this cold. I most certainly cannot walk a mile uphill, you pompous royal.
‘I’m perfectly capable,’ she said instead, ‘Not that you cared to offer me the courtesy of asking before. If this is how you treat your new Minder, I’m not certain I’d like to serve in your north.’
His brows furrowed. ‘You do not strike me, Minder, as someone who wants courtesy.’
‘And you do not strike me, Firemage, as someone who understands anything about what a woman wants.’
His jaw twitched. ‘You speak out of line.’
‘Because you’re a prince?’
She supposed he could have her hung for speaking to him in such a way.
But her anger had replaced her ability to give a damn.
‘You certainly didn’t act like one when you so callously told me my uncle was dead,’ Ezer hissed. ‘Your gods would be ashamed of you.’
His hands balled into fists. ‘Punishment, Minder, is fierce for those who speak ill of the gods.’
‘Go ahead,’ she said, and risked a step closer to him, enough that she had to crane her neck back to look him in the eyes. ‘Punish me.’
‘I wouldn’t dare give you the satisfaction,’ he said.
‘Who said anything about satisfaction?’ She smiled sweetly up at him. And because she knew the ways of the Sacred, how they held themselves back for their perfectly pure, arranged marriages, she added, ‘I don’t need a man for that.’
He squirmed,indeed.
He practically stumbled away.
‘You act like a heathen. A disbeliever.’
She laughed, though every muscle in her body was taut. ‘Oh, I believe, Sacred. I believe that anomagelike me, like my uncle, like all these prisoners who are traveling north to die … we are just pawns for you to use in your losing war.’
‘You know nothing of war,’ he said. His hands curled at his sides. ‘And I can assure you, it’s one we have no intention of losing.’
She blew out a breath as the prince turned away, the tension finally releasing without his eyes upon her.
With a barked order, he sent three Redguard ahead on horseback, urging them to call for reinforcements at the gates.
Why would they need reinforcements just to march the final mile through the woods to the garrison, where thousands of other soldiers were waiting?
There was no danger here, notyet.
