My red brows puckered in confusion. “He ambushed me, but he didn’t hurt me.”
He sniffed at the air around me. “Take a shower. For some reason, you bloody well smell like him.”
I kept my features properly disgusted in light of that repulsive discovery. “Gross.”
“Precisely.” Father walked to my bedchamber door and glanced back at me. “Two hours. Be ready.”
He shut the door behind him.
This day was only getting shittier.
I would like to flush it away and be free of it.
King Athon walked out of the bathroom, now as fully clothed as a shifter gets, sniffing at his right arm in revulsion. He shook his head hard and lowered his limb, his solid black eyes targeting me. The malicious wit was not lost on me, when the shifter king stated, “I knew your father killed him, despite him never admitting to it. I suppose hiding in your bathroom like a child did have some perks.”
I lifted my red brows. “Are you going to tattle on him?”
“Absolutely not. I hated that fucker, too.” He tipped his head and sniffed at his left shoulder this time. “By the Fae, I smell like jasmine. This is sickening.”
I snorted. “That’s better than honeysuckle.”
“Not in the slightest.” He marched to my windows and peeked out the edge of a curtain, his solid black eyes perusing the terrain. “I need to leave and get back to High Pointe. I’ll be able to take a shower there.”
I blinked slowly. “What about your provisions for the Blood Forest. I’m not sharing any of my stuff with you.”
“Bishop is bringing it.” His eyes were still scanning.
“Bishop,” I stated thoughtfully. I crossed my arms, and hedged, “He is an interesting shifter.”
King Athon snorted. “Pitiful attempt to obtain the workings of my inner staff, Princess. You’ll have to try harder than that.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll just ask my father.”
“If he survives King Elon in the Blood Forest.” He peered over at me. “I wish your father the best of luck without his power behind him. King Elon is not someone you would want for an enemy. He is far too old and has seen much.”
“Most assuredly, I would agree.” I jerked my head at my bedchamber door. “You need to leave, and I need to get ready.”
“Go do your damned elf business. I can’t leave yet.”
Irritation straightened my spine. I growled, “Why in the Fairy can’t you?”
“Because your father is standing in the middle of the field sniffing the air like he has a shifter’s nose.”
“What?” I quickly walked to the other side of my windows and peeked around the curtain. My fatherwasstanding there with his nose in the air and walking in a slow circle. He moved a foot over and repeated the action. I muttered, “What in the realm? Has he been doing that the whole time?”
King Athon growled in annoyance. “Yes. What do you suppose the fool is doing?”
“He is no fool.” I cleared my throat, and I mumbled, “He’s merely eccentric. And get back. I’m going to ask him.”
This was a smidge odd, even for my father.
I moved behind the curtain and opened the rolling windows. The tips of my toes hung over the side of the castle, and the wind battered my red hair. I shouted, “Father, what in the Fairy are you doing?”
King Traevon tilted his head back, and yelled, “I smell a fire somewhere. Can you see smoke from up there?”
My eyes roamed the horizon, and my nostrils flared, sniffing as he had done. I wasn’t as powerful as my father. I couldn’t smell the fire, but my eyes snagged on a thin wisp of gray smoke in the distance. I pointed to the right, and yelled, “Over there! I think it’s near the orchard!”
Father scowled and stomped in that direction. “I knew I shouldn’t have hired that idiot!”
