He shook his head in dry amusement, Traveling to the king’s floor. Knocking twice, he pushed through the doors, finding Lia in the sitting room. Her legs were tucked beneath her, and the book he’d given her was open on her lap, a cup of tea steaming on the side table next to her.
“How many times are you going to read that?” he asked, trying to determine if Cethin was here or not as he made his way to a chair.
“How many times am I supposed to?” she asked. There was something different about her today, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“I suppose as many as you’d like, but I can get you others,” he answered, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles.
“In that case, that would be appreciated,” she replied, smoothing her hand over a page. “You are later than usual today.”
“Is Cethin here?”
“Should he be?”
“Are you going to do this all day?”
Her brows pinched. “Do what?”
“Answer my questions with a question.”
Slowly closing the book, she said, “That is irritating to you.”
At least that was an accurate observation instead of another question.
“Yes,” he said, picking at a stray thread on the chair.
“But most things irritate you. Why is this any different?”
Fair fucking point there.
“I don’t know, Lia,” he half grumbled, half drawled. “According to some people, it’s because I need a good fuck.”
“And you don’t think that would help?”
“Of course it would fucking help.”
“Then… I really don’t understand why you are irritated with me. You already know I can be of no assistance in that matter,” she replied, reaching for her tea.
“I wasn’t asking—” He swallowed his growl of annoyance.
“Are you irritated with me because I am his wife now?”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“Cethin,” she answered, as if that clarified anything.
“What does Cethin have to do with any of this?” he demanded.
She eyed him over her teacup, as if she were waiting for him to realize something. It took far longer than it should have for him to figure out what she was insinuating.
Standing from the chair, he stalked across the room, taking the teacup from her hand and setting it aside. Honestly, it was a miracle he didn’t throw the damn thing across the room. He wasn’t surprised when she lurched to her feet, standing on the sofa with a dagger in hand.
A dagger poised at his throat.
If he weren’t so godsdamn pissed off, he’d admire how skilled and trained she actually was. Too bad he was that pissed off.
Leaning forward a fraction, he felt the edge of the blade prick his flesh, and he leaned imperceptibly closer.
“Lia, I am only going to say this one more time, and if you ever bring it up again, I will haul your ass into the sky and drop you in the coldest stream I can find. Then I’ll steal every single one of your arrows and daggers and hide them where you’ll never find them.Thenyou and I will have a brawl ourselves,” he ground out. “Cethin and I have never been and never will be lovers. We will never be friends. We will never be godsdamn acquaintances. We suffer each other’s company because we have to. Is that clear?”
