“Ah. Many, but not you. I understand. You think I'm conceited.”
“That is not what I said.”
“A narcissist.”
“Nor that.”
“A man so full of his own importance that he can't tell when someone is merely tolerating his presence.”
I squished up my lips and cocked my head.
The King paused, then prodded, “No protest on that one?”
I made an ambivalent sound and shrugged.
He burst into laughter.
“I'm glad you're entertained, Your Majesty. Now, if I could get back to solving two murders? Actually, make that five murders.”
“Not quite yet, Tekhan. I am not as arrogant as you think. I know you are tolerating me because you must and you think I am ignoring your rejections because I don't care about what you want. You believe me to be selfish and only concerned about my own needs.”
In a dry tone, I said, “That means the same thing.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Oh, if my mother were here, she'd be laughing until she cried.”
I just stared at him.
The King sighed, his expression going sober. “How many times must we go over this? You've admitted that you want to be with me. You simply have reservations. That is not an acceptable reason to reject me. So, as I have said, I will continue my pursuit until I can get you past your reservations.”
“Yes, yes.” I waved his words away. “You think that because I find you attractive, it's all right to ignore my wishes. You don't agree with my reasons for rejecting your advances so you ignore them. Oh, excuse me.” I held up a hand before he could interrupt. “You are trying towork past them.” I rolled my eyes. “My answer is no. Regardless of my reasons, you should accept that. But because of who you are, you think you don't have to. Oh, sure, you say you won't force me into anything, but you won't leave either. That, in itself, is a type of force. You are not working me through anything, you are trying to wear down my resistance. That is a tactic of war, Your Majesty, not romance.”
The King frowned and leaned back.
“Yes, now you're starting to understand.” The carriage stopped, and I glanced out the window. We were at the Hall of Talons. “Any other man, and I would arrest him for harassment. But I can't arrest you, Your Majesty. All I can do is ask you to show me some basic respect. Now, will you leave,please?”
After seeing his unfailing optimism, it was rough to see the King's expression fall, his stare falter, and his lips tremble. For one horrible moment, I thought he might cry. Instead, he swallowed, leaned back, and nodded.
Just then, the carriage door opened.
I kept watching the King, waiting for him to move to follow me. He stared straight ahead. I got out. Turned to look at him. Waited. His knight waited too.
“To the castle,” the King said.
The knight—one I hadn't met yet—glanced at me as he closed the carriage door, then hurried up onto the bench besidethe driver. The King continued to stare forward as he rode away. It was the result I wanted. At last. I had won.
So why did my chest hurt so badly and my eyes burn? Odd. I told myself they were simple physical responses to the loss of pleasure. I had never denied that the King could give me great pleasure. In fact, that was part of the problem. So, yes, that must be it. I had denied myself pleasure, and the primal part of me didn't like it. It was not an emotional response. Even if it was, it would dissipate quickly, as things of that nature always do.
Chapter Fifteen
I collected the evidence, reports, and notes on the Kun-lo case from the Hall of Talons and took it home. I knew I wouldn't be able to think in the Hall with all my fellows watching me, wondering where the King was. At least at home, it was only me doing the wondering.
Yes, I admit it. I missed him. Ridiculous. He had gotten to me. All my protests came back to haunt me as I trudged up the stairs to my apartment, a leather satchel full of the Kun-lo files slung over my shoulder. I think it had become a matter of pride for me. I had said no. That should have been the end of it. But the King had carried on, and I, in my own stubborn way, had continued to throw obstacle after obstacle into his path. I suppose even a Dragon had his limits.
Once inside my home, with the door shut, and the windows closed against the outside world, I could be honest with myself. I didn't just want the Dragon King for sex or blood. I liked him. I really liked him. I hadn't known my existence was so dull until he shone his light upon it. Now, I couldn't unsee the dismal manner in which I lived. I wanted to get angry at the King about it, but it was hardly his fault. Besides, I had work to do.
“Ephemeral emotions,” I muttered to myself. “They'll be gone soon enough. Like a night breeze. Only a fool makes hishappiness contingent on another person.” Lecture complete, I got to work.
An hour later, I was on the floor of the main living space with notes scattered around me. There were accounts of a man following Kun-lo that Claw Greishen had ignored. Witnesses had seen this man on over three occasions. He also happened to be Argaiv—like Greishen. Greishen would never investigate an Argaiv for a crime against a human.
