“Thought so. You see, sweets, your participation in this tournament wasn’t desired. In fact, I was laughed at, if you can believe it. And I’ll be honest, while I’m sure you’re a nice woman, maybe even a decent lay,” he looked her over in a way that made her want to disappear, “I didn’t choose you because I fancy you or think you’ve even got a shot at winning. I offered to train you solely to slight him, and it worked. So, he was furious. Tried to force my hand.Reallywanted me to concede custody of you to the mages. But, he doesn’t own me, despite wanting to convince himself and everyone around him of the opposite.No onecontrols me.”
What is his obsession with the King? And what is the King’s obsession with him? I don’t get it… wait…
“Is Magnus your father?” She couldn’t help it. She’d blurted the words out before she could think better of it.Hazel Grace, you bumbling idiot. You just suggested he’s a bastard, of all things.Her cheeks flared with heat.
He blanched, eyes going wide in surprise. And then he laughed. Hysterically.
“My father? Not a shot. He wishes he’d sired someone of my abilities instead of mewling Prince Tristan. Though I suppose he feels I owe him something for allowing me to live this long.” He shrugged carelessly, looking past her into some forgotten memory.
“Not sure what he thinks I should thank him for, anyway. I didn’t share the same childhood as prince charming. As for being a bastard, I’m not the one who carries that title, though I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge someone in that family had some explaining to do.”
“Sorry, I?—”
He waved her off with a dismissive hand. “It’s not important. Made me who I am today, right?”
“Right.”Are we pretending that’s a good thing?
“So here’s the deal, uh, Bella… Catlyn …Margaret?”
“Hazel.”
“Hazel.” He smirked. “Alright, Hazel. We’ve only a few days to get you ready for this tournament. Lost an entire day to you lounging around. And before you protest again, I’ll remind you the alternative is you being dissected by a bunch of creeps in hooded bath robes. So, I’m just going to assume you’re in. And by the look of it, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
His gaze roamed over her, feeling far too intimate. Hazel grabbed at the threadbare blanket pooled at her hips. He cocked a curious eyebrow. “Can you even move?”
She shrugged, immediately wincing at the small movement.
Right on cue, the infirmary doors opened and Nemsen waltzed in. He balked, apparently forgetting he’d made a deal with Slaide to stay the night. Seeing Hazel sitting upright, limbs unbound, the color drained from his face.
The rotund healer scurried across the room to his workbench and frantically began preparing something. Glasses clinked, liquids sloshed, and before long he was shuffling over to them. Slaide instinctively stepped into Nemsen’s way, barring his path to Hazel, forcing Nemsen to retreat a few steps.
“Master Elias—Slaide—the girl, she’s awake.”
“I have eyes. I can see she’s awake. I was just explaining things to her. What’s in your hands there?”
“I, well… You see, His Majesty requested she remain sedated. At least until we know more about her.”
“Yeah, not happening. That may have been his prior direction, but she’s my ward now.” His next words were low and graveled. He spoke just low enough that she couldn’t make out the words. “I can’t exactly interrogate an unconscious person, can I?”
Nemsen shook his head. His fingers fumbled with the vial in his hands nervously, his internal struggle clear.
“No, sir. No, you can’t.” He sighed. “I know we talked about things, Slaide, but you’ll understand why I still need to run this by the King. I can’t lose my position here, much less my head, for disobeying direct orders. I have a family to feed.”
“Do what you must, but in the meantime, no more drugs. No more sleeping draughts or poppyweed milk. I need her awake.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Behind him, Hazel cleared her throat. “Not to intrude on your little conversation, but since it concerns me, I wonder if I might be included? Or at least know what in the name of the gods is going on here?”
Slaide turned to face her. “In time. For now, we need to get you into better quarters and cleaner clothes. When’s the last time you bathed?” He scrunched his nose in disgust.
Hazel was aghast. She couldn’t help the sorry state her body was in.
Slaide looked at Nemsen. “We’re going to leave now. Do you and I still have an agreement? Or are you going to be a problem?”
Nemsen looked at the floor. “Yes, of course. It shall be as we discussed.”
“Good. If Magnus has a problem, tell him to come find me himself.”
Nemsen’s eyes went wide, and he made to respond, but Slaide turned his back on the man. His heightened senses informed him of Nemsen’s quiet departure, the doors hardly so much as creaking on his way out.
