He studied her face. ‘You’re not getting attached, are you?’
‘He does make a great neck warmer on those frosty nights.’ The faintest of smiles played on her lips. ‘My sister named him.’
Harlan pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Of course she did.’
‘Garlic.’
His hand fell away. ‘At least it’s part of the recipe.’
Blake bent to put the duck back down on the ground. ‘Well, thank you—again. I’m not sure what I did to get in your good graces, but I’m grateful for it.’
He nodded.
‘How these kinds of social exchanges typically work is I say, “Thank you,” and you say something nice back, such as “You’re welcome”.’
He took a step towards the door, ignoring the comment. ‘If you need to go to the port again, ask the guards on duty to fetch me. I don’t care how well you can throw a knife.’
For a moment, she did not speak, just looked at him. ‘I’m beginning to suspect you care whether I live or die.’
‘It’s my job to protect this borough and the people in it.’
She glanced at the window. ‘You’re going to be a very busy man when I let all the other women know of your generous offer.’
He grunted. ‘I’m only extending the offer to you because you’re the type of girl who attracts attention.’
‘With my impressive knife skills?’
His eyes moved over her. ‘Because of how you look.’
Curiosity piqued on her face. ‘And how do I look?’
‘You don’t come across as the kind of woman who fishes for compliments.’
‘You were going to pay a compliment? Do you even know how?’
‘Not really.’ He released a breath. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to source them elsewhere.’
She suppressed a smile. ‘Lucky for me, Odo is all sonnets.’
Pure sarcasm.
It surprised Harlan that the man proposing marriage did not think to tell Blake she was beautiful. Blake was not just pretty, she was the kind of girl who made responsible men do irresponsible things—like all the things he had done in the short time he had known her.
The sound of a horse approaching drew him outside. Blake followed, stopping in the doorway.
Astin pulled up out front, looking between them. ‘Thought I might find you here. One of your men said you were helping merchant women carry supplies, and I thought to myself, “That issohim.”’
‘What do you want?’ Harlan asked, stepping down onto the street.
‘Prince Borin wishes to see you.’
Harlan nodded and began walking, ensuring he did not look back at Blake. ‘Better not keep His Highness waiting.’
* * *
Harlan’s father had also been summoned. They entered the throne room together, stopping next to the table where King Oswin, his sons, and the king’s advisors were seated. Astin stood by the wall with the other guards and bodyguards. Prince Becket chose not to have a bodyguard, which was fine, because he did not attract the negative attention his older brother did.
‘Your Majesty, Your Highnesses,’ Shapur and Harlan said, bowing.
