He blinked once, his eyes flicking to my mouth. “Should I prove it to you?”
Heat darted low in my stomach.
“I thought we were training.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in my voice. “Kisses don’t play a role in that.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Training, Trew. Training.” I scowled and adjusted my feet.
He stepped back, the absence of his heat making the room feel cold.
“All right, then,” he said. “Try again.”
Something shifted high in the rafters. I caught it out of the corner of my eye. Too small for a hawk, too erratic for a bat.
My breathing stilled.
Trew’s head tilted, his gaze sharp. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, snapping my attention back to the weighted ball between us. Definitely nothing worth mentioning to the man who already thought I was standing here, salivating about kissing him again.
I bent my focus toward the ball, willing it to slide even an inch.
A soft chirp broke the silence.
My arms went tight. Then a tiny weight landed on my left shoulder, so light it barely shifted the fabric of my tunic.
Slowly, I turned my head and found myself staring into the beady eyes of the little ball of fluff on legs.
The minxpip looked exactly the same as the day she’d flown across the arena and claimed me in front of the entire court. Tiny, trembly, her feathers puffed as if she was trying to look intimidating.Which was laughable, since she was smaller than my fist. Yet somehow, she’d already carved a space in my guarded heart. Maybe small things did matter, after all.
“Hey there,” I whispered.
She chirped again, higher this time, and I swear there was an edge to it. Adon’t you dare reject me againkind of edge.
From his perch, Gavelle gave a slow blink, his gaze locked on the minxpip. His feathers settled in a way that almost looked like acknowledgment. Which I found unnerving.
I let out a breath that was half laugh, half disbelieving groan. “Of course. You get a predator that could kill me in two beats of its wings. I get a hedge-dweller with anxiety issues.”
The minxpip nipped my ear.
I recoiled away from her.
Trew’s mouth curved. “Pherin heard you.”
“How do you know her name?”
“Gavelle told me.”
“Well, she didn’t tellme.”
“Because you keep holding yourself back.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Plan to do it again?”
“Maybe not.”
“I suggest you start with an apology.”
Huffing, I turned to face her, finding her beak within striking range of my nose. “I’m sorry.”
