Then again, she’d already stabbed him, so…
He was still staring at her, and she couldn’t read his expression. His hand was also still outstretched, far too close for comfort. Taking another step back from him, she said, “Go get the arrow and meet me back here.”
“No,” he answered. Again. But as she opened her mouth to argue with him, he continued, “You stabbed me on top of trying to kill me with said arrow?—”
“I wasn’t trying to?—”
“I could have you arrested and held for questioning,” he continued, raising his voice to speak over her.
“You could try,” she muttered.
He’d dropped his hand at some point, but now he once again extended it to her. “Let me escort you to the castle to retrieve your arrow, and then we can move on.”
“Forget this happened?” she said doubtfully.
The corner of his lips turned into some kind of a wry smile. “Something like that.”
She eyed his hand again. “Fine. But we’ll walk.”
His features twisted into something unimpressed. “It would take hours. Even on horseback it would take at least two.”
She shrugged. “Either go get the arrow and return it to me here, or fetch some horses, king.”
“Your Majesty.”
“What?”
His hand dropping back to his side yet again, he clarified, “Most people address me as your Majesty.”
“I’ll address you however I please.”
He went quiet, once more studying her too closely. She was becoming too brazen. This wasnotthe way things were supposed to go, and there was no way this was furthering her plans?—
“Fair enough, tiny fiend.”
She bristled, her face scrunching in disgust. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’ll address you however I please. Part of the king title and all that,” he returned. “More than that, you haven’t provided your name.”
“Go get the horses,” she gritted out.
“Horse,” he replied, emphasizing the lack of plurality. “Only one.”
“No.”
There was absolutely no way in all the realm she was riding on a horse with him. That would involve far too much touching. A small shudder rolled down her spine at the thought.
“We are once again at an impasse, tiny fiend,” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at her.
“You not getting your way does not classify as an impasse,” she retorted, not caring that she was once again fingering her dagger. He noticed too, and she could swear he was fighting a smile. “I will meet you at the castle,” she finally conceded. Then added, “Mid-morning.”
“We go now,” he all but growled, stepping closer to her.
She went rigid as he reached for her hand again, but this time it wasn’t slow and tentative. His hand snapped out, clearly done with debates as his long fingers closed around her wrist.
In the next breath, there was a pull at her navel as she was tugged through a rip in the air. She’d been Traveled before, and she hated it. It was nothing like moving through ashes and smoke. That was fluid and graceful. Calming. Traveling was jarring and unsettling.
When they reappeared, she sucked in a breath and yanked her arm from his grasp. Taking in the new space, she tried to get her heart rate to slow and the phantom burning at her wrist to fade. Light grey marble floors were offset by dark walls that matched the outside of the castle she’d observed from afar.Sconces every few feet cast a soft glow along with the windows that would let in the natural light during the day. There were soft white window curtains tied back with silver cords. Somehow the space was warm and inviting despite the cool tones of the decor.
