“You seem quite sure about this.” I cross my arms. “Who’s your money on then?”
He’s silent for a long moment, looking at me. Or rather not looking butgazing. As though he’s trying to peel away the outerlayers of my being and get a glimpse into my soul. And who exactly would he find there? The woman I’ve always believed myself to be: Rosie the apothecary’s assistant, defender of small, fluffy things, bane of demon cats? Or Princess Roselle Pandracor the dragon’s daughter?
I draw a shuddering breath. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop looking at me like that. It’s unnerving.”
He cocks his head. The hard angles of his face are difficult to read. “Forgive me, Princess,” he says. “I don’t mean to unnerve.”
“And don’t call me that!”
“What? Princess?”
“Yes.”
“It’s what you are.”
“So they tell me.” My lip curls. “I’m not sure I believe them.” Shaking my head, I flick a spring of curl out of my face and glare up at him. “You still haven’t answered.”
He nods slowly. Then, after a too-long silence: “Prince Valtar.”
“Who?”
“Prince Valtar Skylock. Of Inithana.”
I frown. “Where’s that?”
“It’s a small kingdom. In the Khylmira Continent.”
“Isn’t that…” I hesitate, as though speaking the next words will bring evil racing through every ward and protection right to the subterranean doorstep of Stromin Palace. “Isn’t thatherdomain?”
“Yes.”
No question, no confusion. We all know whichherwe mean when uttered in that tone of voice.
I shudder. “Aren’t they the High King’s enemies then?”
“Yes. But King Travarn of Inithana defied the dracori whenthey invaded and fought to drive Mhoryga’s fire from his land. He was burned at the stake for his troubles. But his sons were spared. One swore allegiance to Mhoryga and took up the dracori mantle. The other did not.”
“So this Prince Valtar…he is King Travarn’s surviving son?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” I consider this information, rolling both the name and the brief history around in my head. “I would imagine,” I muse out loud, “he’s developed some formidable survival skills after all this time. Eluding dracori and whatnot.” A smile breaks across my face, and I lift my gaze to the stranger’s once more. “Maybe you’re right then. Maybe Taigan won’t walk away with the victory after all.”
“He won’t.”
I tip an eyebrow. “I wish I had your confidence.”
“You don’t strike me as a woman lacking in confidence.”
Suddenly the memory of that kiss is very present on my lips. Judging by the way his gaze has dropped and now fixes on my mouth, I suspect he’s not forgotten either. It was a very nice kiss after all. Maybe a little too nice. Or maybe I’m just remembering it wrong. The heat of the moment, the tension and embarrassment, may have made for an exaggerated experience. I would have to kiss him again to know for sure.
Oh gods. Time to go.
“Thank you so much for your assistance,” I say, pushing away from the wall and clutching handfuls of embroidered skirts in both fists. “I must be on my way. It’s been a long morning. If it’s even been a morning. Who knows down here? Either way, Philippa will be expecting me, so I’d best be off.”
