He emerged, threading his arms through a white kaftan, which really complemented his tanned skin and blue eyes. “I’ll live.”
Her mind replayed how he’d shoved himself into Nasir’s path. Like a lion protecting his pride. It had been incredible. Inspiring. Nobody had ever done something like that for her.
He eyed the plate and frowned. “What’s that?”
“Shakshuka. It’s delicious but spicy.”
“You afraid I can’t handle it?” he teased as he sat in the other chair.
“I only said it to warn you.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and took a sip of the orange juice, trying to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling at sitting close to him.
He lifted a spoon, then paused. “Do you mind me joining you?”
“I think I owe you.”
Apollo set down his spoon. “I’ll pass.”
“What?” She drew back and frowned at him. “Why? You can’t be serious—you have to eat.”
“I never want you to feel like you owe me anything. This is my job. It’s what I do.” For a man with so much determination and character, he was pretty young. Handsome, but still young.
“You know, you really don’t have to make everything a lesson.” She scooped a poached egg with the tomato sauce onto her plate and took some bread.
“Wait, are these—” He grimaced, spoon poised over the pan. “Runny eggs?”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“Runny eggs are like snot.”
Laughing, she covered her mouth, nearly spitting out the bite she’d taken. “That is disgusting.”
“Exactly.”
“You are not allowed to complain until you try it.”
“So, not just captivity but torture too.”
She wanted to smile, but his words felt…too soon. Especially considering the injuries they’d both sustained within this House. And in the seconds that followed, she felt a wave of guilt for relaxing around him. Somehow, it felt wrong. Like…failing.
And that could not happen. She could not let this guy slip in with his smirk, muscles, and charm to dismantle a lifetime of work, tearing control from her grasp.
“So…safari,” he said, grabbing a chunk of bread to dip in the tomato sauce of the shakshuka. “Do you know how long it’ll be or where we’re going?”
“I only know it is fourteen days.”
Owen gaped. “Two weeks? That…is longer than expected.” He seemed to recover with a wan grin. “But…safari.”
Folding her arms over her chest, she sat back. “I don’t even understand why they’d invite me. In Paris, I carried the bags. Guess Daria wants me to be bait for the wildlife while she flees.”
“Bait’s my job,” he said, thumbing toward himself.
Despite his light tone, she didn’t like it. What was the point of Daria including her in all this. What was the long game? Would she be responsible for Apollo getting hurt too?
“Hey.” His hand landed on her knees. “You okay?”
She bounced her gaze around the table, thinking. Did they want her to have an unfortunate accident? Hope she’d die? Was Apollo right that the royals were working to turn the king against her? Was the king regretting bringing her here? But…how would that reconcile with the fact he wanted Ummi back?
“It just doesn’t make sense…” That’s when she felt the tremor in her chest, the rampage of fear. All her certainty that being here meant she could control staying alive and thereby keep Ummi alive suddenly seemed compromised now. She felt backed into a corner.
