“No,” she said simply.
He held back his smile. “Those arrows of yours can kill beings that are threatening my people. Aside from dragon fire, it’s the only other weapon we’ve found that can kill them.”
“Then give it back so I can continue to do so.”
“I’d like to partner with you to create more for my forces to use.”
“No.”
His brows flew up. “I just told you it’s one of two ways to kill threats to Avonleya, and you decline?”
“You use the word often enough. I assumed you knew what it meant.”
By the Fates.
“Okay,” he said through gritted teeth, his patience waning, as he pulled his plate back in front of him. “Let’s forgo the negotiations for a little longer. Did you enjoy the Esbat Festival?”
Her brow creased in confusion. “What?”
“The festivities last night. Did you enjoy the evening?”
She studied him for another long moment, as if trying to figure out an underlying meaning in his words. Finally, she said, “Until the hostage part, I suppose the evening was…fine.”
“Fine?” he pushed, polishing off his eggs.
“There were a lot of people there.”
“Were you planning on stabbing anyone else then? Or only me?”
She threw her hands up, shaking them out a little as she muttered, “By Temural.”
Temural?
That was an interesting god to invoke.
Temural and his sister, Saylah, were the children of Arius, the god of death and endings, and Serafina, the goddess of dreams and stars. Arius and Serafina were two of the six original First Gods. The four of them were often only whispered of by the beings of this realm. It was believed that even speaking their names could anger them and summon unfavorable outcomes.
“Are you going to eat?” he asked, eyes dipping to her still untouched plate.
She followed his gaze before looking back up at him.
Then she reached over and picked up the muffin, taking a bite.
He went still, watching her as she chewed that bite of the foodRazikhad given her. Surely that wasn’t the reason. She simply liked baked goods more than eggs. And bacon. And toast.
Except then shewaseating everything else, as if she’d needed to prove some point by starting with that godsdamn muffin.
Or maybe that bite of muffin had made her realize precisely how hungry she was.
The eggs. The bacon. The toast. Fruit and cheeses. She ate as though she hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks.
“Which part of the kingdom did you say you were from?” Cethin asked, watching her warily because clearly he needed to visit the town and ensure the people there weren’t godsdamn starving.
As if suddenly realizing what she was doing, she froze, a piece of bacon halfway to her lips. Amber eyes snapped to his as she said, “I didn’t.”
“I’m aware,” he drawled. “That was me asking.”
Her brow furrowed. “Then why not simply state the question?”
