“It’s a pity,” she continued, unable to help herself. “Had they watched more carefully, they’d have noticed how protective you were of your left side. An obvious vulnerability. What is it?”
Rurik’s green eyes took on an alarming glint. “You are seeingtoomuch. Can be dangerous thing in this world, Saga.” Rurik meandered closer in a move that was casually threatening. “A rib”—he patted his left side—“is healing. And now you know this thing about me, you must share something about you.”
Saga took a cautious step back. “That’s not how it works. I discovered this about you, purely from observation.”
“Fromwatchingme.”
Her cheeks flushed hot, but she stood her ground. “You’re doing it to me now,” she snapped. “Circling me. Driving me to anger. What do you want from me, Rurik? Do you want me to attack?”
He chuckled softly, stepping closer. “I admit, I enjoy making you squirm.”
She blinked twice. “Why?”
“Because is”—he paused—“true. Isreal. Not pretend like you show to others.”
“Well, stop it.”
She could hear his smile as he said, “Then I would be needing new ways to make you squirm.”
Saga closed her eyes. Let his words seep into her blood, hot and languorous and full of ideas that would get her killed. But then anger ignited low in her stomach.Hecould play games like this without fear of repercussions. Because that was precisely how it went—men paid with a rap on the knuckles, while women paid with their lives.
“Do you say whatever slides through your mind?” Saga seethed, her anger growing hotter. “How could they sendyouto broker the treaty? Are you truly the best that Zagadka has to negotiate?”
“Best from the best,” he replied wryly.
“Based on what I’ve heard come out of your mouth, I struggle to believe that.”
Rurik chuckled, his gaze falling to the tenderest part of her throat. “You are not knowing the magic of this mouth.”
His words sent a sweet, warm rush pulsing through her body. And for the briefest moment, the thought slipped into her mind: whatwouldhe do with that mouth?
“I must go,” she said dazedly. Good gods. Too many nights spent poring over records must have addled her mind. She needed a good night’s sleep to restore her sanity.
“Very well,” said Rurik, though the reluctance in his voice told her this conversation wasn’t over. As he stepped back, Saga released a long breath. “Word must not reach the others of my involvement,” said Rurik, all amusement gone. “I will hold your secret for you, and you too will hold mine. Do you agree?”
Saga nodded.
“Good,” said Rurik, staring at her. After a long moment, he turned to the door, shoving it open with a quick thrust of his shoulder. As he moved to allow space for Saga to shimmy past him, his lips tugged up in amusement. “Was pleasure, Saga, as always.”
“I’d say the same,” she huffed, “but we’d both know I was lying.”
Behind her, Rurik choked in disbelief, and Saga had a moment of trepidation—had she gone too far? But as the sound shifted to laughter, Saga allowed herself a secret smile.
A fleeting thought entered her mind. Perhaps there was some truth to what he’d said about seeing the real her. Because when this man provoked her, Saga was incapable of keeping her anger tucked away. And based on his laughter, he seemed to enjoy the burn.
Quickly, she pushed the thought aside. And then, with her drawing board tucked under her arm, Saga strode on.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Days later, Saga’s heart beat like a hammer on an anvil as she prepared to meet Queen Signe for róa in Askaborg’s solarium. As she stepped through the doors, Saga looked down, examining her gown for a thread out of place. For an hour or more, she’d been braided and poked and yanked until Árlaug had proclaimed her worthy of meeting a queen.
After days of fruitless scouring of records, she’d leaped at the queen’s invitation to join her for róa in the solarium.Not only did it mean doing somethingbesidesreading, this one-on-one meeting was the perfect opportunity to use her Sense on the queen.
Saga hadn’t failed to notice the invitation had been penned by Lady Geira. Distantly, she wondered if Geira still believed her ill health Ursir’s doing or if she suspected Saga. Though Saga supposed it didn’t matter—Geira wouldn’t say anything if she thought Saga had a page of her salacious Bear God story.
“The table has been set near the fountain, my lady,” said the thrall, holding the door open.
Saga nodded. As she stepped into the solarium, the scent of moonflowers and sweet florals hit her with such force that her feet faltered. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she walked toward the fountain. Like the hearth hall, the solarium was hewn from plain granite, though color throbbed throughout, clambering green, offset by bursts of pink and white.
