“You’re right.” He tried taking another tentative step closer to her, and this time she didn’t back away. “You owe me a thank you.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, standing straight and relaxing.
“You heard me. We aren’t even until you thank me.”
“And what, pray tell, am I thanking you for,Your Highness?” she said with mock civility.
“No need for such formalities, General. You can simply thank me for stopping you from making a huge mistake and killing Arlanson.”
“It wouldn’t have been a mistake. If anything, you owe me an apology for interfering with my business.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“And you will not be hearing an apology from my lips.” At the mention of those lips, Westley’s eyes dropped to her full mouth. He clenched his jaw to stop from saying something ill advised. When he returned his gaze to hers, she was smug, with one eyebrow raised.
“Care to elaborate on why I had to intervene in an attempted murder today?” he asked, changing the subject back to the matter at hand.
“Noone asked you to do that.”
“That’s not true. Not that I needed him to, as I was already prepared to jump in, but Conalle whispered to me, ‘If you don’t stop her, I’ll slice off your penis in your sleep!’ So you see, I really had no choice.” Her mouth twitched with the struggle to hold back a smile. She lost the battle and burst out laughing.
“I can appreciate that you were under duress, but you still won’t get a thank you from me.”
“Fair enough. Now will you tell me why we want Arlanson dead?” The general sobered immediately. Was it his use of the wordwe? It had just slipped out. “Or at least elaborate on your very succinct whispered explanation of ‘his chauvinistic ass does not deserve to keep breathing,’” he said, referring to their heated conversation when he’d stepped in. “Which, may I add, did not make sense in the slightest. As a person who very recently sustained a severe stab wound to the organ in charge of breathing, I feel confident in saying that no one breathes out their ass.”
“You haven’t spent much time with Latham, then,” she retorted, and he had to laugh at that.
“I’ve spent enough time with him that I can imagine. Now, given your use of the word chauvinist, I’m assuming he has made agraveerror.” He chuckled at his own joke but she did not laugh.
“He demoted the females in leadership positions.”
Westley stared at her, stunned. “All of them?”
She nodded. “And as if that isn’t bad enough, he also demoted my shieldmaidens. Gerrie is the most skilled combat warrior I have ever fought with or against. She’s been in charge of training our soldiers for over a century. Her training is why the Southern Wilds is as feared as it is.”
Westley could practically see the rage lighting up within her as she glared at him.
“And he deserved my dagger to his eye. Since he clearly can’t see properly, he might as well have the injuries to show for it.” He caught the movement of her fingers twitching at her side and briefly wondered whether she was going to stab him again.
He was not a masochist, but his sanity may be in trouble because he didn’t entirely hate the idea of her coming at him with a blade again. He brought his hands up to cover his face.
“Not the face, please!” he said, shuddering dramatically.
She seemed like she was about to laugh again but stopped, as if catching herself. When she didn’t reply to his joke, he lowered his hands and frowned at her serious expression.
“It was a joke, General. I know you’d never strike my pretty face,” he said, attempting to draw a smile from her, but she kept her expression neutral, emotions locked down.
“I need to get back. I have to speak with Gerrie and Jarl Bjornson.” She was about to leave but paused and then stalked straight up to him. The air crackled between their close bodies. Keeping her voice low, she hissed, “If you ever put your hands on me again, you won’t survive long enough for your body to heal itself.”
“I’m starting to love it when you whisper sweet nothings of death threats in my ear, General.”
Solveig didn’t make eye contact with him as she headed in the direction of camp.
“Better keep that temper in check. I might not be there to stop you next time you make a rash decision,” he called after her.
The sight of her middle finger and low chuckle sent a shudder through his body as she walked away.
Thefollowingfewweekswere trying for Solveig. She was finally taking on most of her responsibilities as general again, and that included overseeing the training of her warriors.
