“I know what a kiss is,” he growls.
“You thought it was inappropriate?”
“I have a job to do.” He slashes the space between us with his free hand. “Youknowthat.”
I wince. I keep forgetting that part. My safety is his responsibility. “We don’t know anything right now. So, fine. Their leader is looking for a wife, but what if he already has his eye on someone? It’s pointless to argue over something that hasn’t happened yet.”
He shoots me an aggrieved look. “And in the meantime, we risk our hearts?”
I sigh. “I’m exhausted.”
“So am I.”
I drag a long hand down my braid. “You don’t have to stand watch. Sleep in here—”
“I’ll sleep on the ground outside.”
Thegroundis made of packed dirt. He’d rather sleep on dirt than next to me. “All right.”
He finishes the water. “Their king is a great warrior. The people love and respect him because they loved and respected his father.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Manuel stares into the empty cup. “He sounds like a good man.”
“How old is he?”
“Younger, I think.” Manuel pauses. I get the sense he wants to say more, but he must change his mind, because the silence stretches. “Good night, Condesa.”
I try not to flinch. He lowers his chin, a swift acknowledgment, before closing the door behind him. He leaves me standing with my heart splintering. I thought I’d gotten past his wall, but it’s solidly back in place, with a moat around it. I drag in air, willing my body to stop trembling. I shake away my hurt, my confusion, and think about the Illari, who I have to convince to help my cause.
An Illari I might have to marry in order to get what I want.
CAPÍTULO
Veintiuno
The next morning, I’m up and ready before they come to get us. It’s time to meet with their leader. I’m chewing on mint leaves when a loud rap sounds on the door. Manuel waits on the other side.
“Sleep well?” he inquires politely.
His expression is carefully arranged and nonchalant, nothing for me to question or poke. I can’t stand it. “We’re not doing that,” I say firmly.
He takes a step back. “Doingwhat?”
“It’s all right to show me what you’re really thinking … how you’re really feeling. I can handle your frustration.”
Manuel drags his hand down his face. Peers at me through spread fingers. I can’t discern his expression.
“What?” I ask.
He sighs. “You keep surprising me.”
“Are you unhappy?” I lower my voice into an urgent whisper. “Tell me the truth.”
Manuel lowers his hand slowly. “Yes.”
“Then be miserable with me.” I inhale sharply. “Because there is anus, whether you like it or not. I don’t want to have another conversation until we know what we’re dealing with. Fair?”
