Geo catches my eye as he wanders closer, looking more serious than usual. "You ready for this?" he asks quietly. "Seeing where he came from, finding out more about his past?"
I consider his question, rolling the champagne flute between my fingers. "I'm ready to get answers," I say finally. "The rest... I'll deal with as it comes."
He smirks, and there's something almost proud in his expression. "Good girl."
The words send a jolt of heat flooding through me like someone lit a match in a pile of tinder. I shove it down quickly and look away before he sees just how much those two simple words just affected me. Knight gives me a quizzical look that I pretend not to notice.
Well,fuck.
I've learned something about myself today. Something I'd rather stuff in a box and bury at the bottom of the ocean's deepest trench than acknowledge.
Apparently, I have a thing for praise.
"I'm going to go... check on the dress situation," I mumble, fleeing before Geo can see my flaming cheeks or figure out exactly what his words just did to me.
Behind me, I hear Knight rumble with what might be laughter.
Traitor.
Chapter 19
GEO
The lineoutside the palace stretches for what looks like half a fucking mile, packed with tourists chattering away in every language known to man.
I shift my weight from foot to foot, already regretting the decision to wear these damn robes. For one thing, I don't know how I'm supposed to reach my fucking gun.
I've got to find a way to get through this day without Cosima or Raven actually poisoning or kidnapping any members of the royal family, Nikolai letting his hothead tendencies get the best of him and starting a war, or Knight eating anyone.
Or maybe I'll get lucky and get struck by lightning.
That's a hell of a lot more likely than all of us making it out of here without an international incident.
The palace looms ahead forebodingly. It's somehow even more over-the-top than I expected. The white marble stone gleams in the sun like it's been polished with angel tears, and every surfaceis covered in those gold-leafed geometric patterns the Surhiirans love so much. Evenmoregold leaf covers every fucking archway.
A man like me can't help but wonder what treasures are in there. The royal family probably wouldn't miss a stray knickknack or two. Maybe a little statue of an idol, or one of those jeweled eggs I've heard about. Wonder if Cosima would be willing to smuggle a souvenir in her?—
"What is this, a pre-war amusement park?" Nikolai grumbles beside me, adjusting those stupid red glasses for the thousandth time. They looked better in a display case along with my other trophies. "Look at all these tourists."
"Surhiira is the safest country on the planet, as far as anyone knows," I say, watching a family of betas snap pictures with some oversized ancient camera that probably cost more than my entire market brings in during a slow month. "So it attracts rich tourists looking for a kick. Is that really such a surprise?"
"I'm going to die of boredom," Cosima mutters from where she's leaning against Knight's massive frame. "And my feet hurt."
She's wearing an emerald green outfit with a veil that makes her violet eyes stand out like jewels in candlelight. The silk clings to her curves in ways that make my mouth go dry, and I have to force myself to look away. As much as the rest of us stick out for looking rough—especially Knight and me—her beauty is equally distracting in its own way. Every head turns when she moves, whispers following everywhere she goes.
"Allow me, goddess," Raven says, and before anyone can protest, he's scooping her up in his arms.
The tourists around us immediately start whispering and pointing. A few even pull out cameras, probably thinking we're some kind of street performance.
So much for blending in.
"We're supposed to be not attracting attention, remember?" I growl to him, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "It's hard enough with Knight."
Knight lets out a growl of his own at the mention of his name. Although this one's more of a low, irritated rumble than the usual feral sounds I'm used to. Even with the tactical jacket and scarf covering most of his bulk, he looks like what he is. A walking weapon.
We shuffle forward in line at a pace that would make a snail look speedy. The sun climbs higher, turning the white stone into a fucking oven that reflects heat from every angle. My eye patch is damp with sweat, but I resist the urge to start fucking with it. Once I start adjusting it instead of putting it out of my mind, it'll drive me crazy. The scar tissue beneath it always aches in heat like this.
Cosima runs her fingers through Raven's golden hair as he carries her, the gesture so casual and intimate it makes something twist in my gut. She's humming some Vrissian lullaby under her breath, completely at ease in his arms.
