“I’d expected you to have already departed,” I tell him. I quickly glance at the clock on the wall then back to Odgar.
His smile is endearingly crooked when it reappears, and I stare at his lips for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
“I am actually setting sail soon,” he says. “I wanted to say goodbye first, but I didn’t want to summon you if you were busy.”
I start to gnaw on my lip but force myself to stop. “Prince Odgar…” I start formally.
His posture straightens, and he leans toward me very slightly.
My gaze skims over the tattoos on one shaven side of his head, then down to those captivating sunburst eyes of his. “About the attack during the Feast. I hope that doesn’t completely shatter the prospect of a possible union. Should you be my chosen suitor and should you… agree.”
I’m not sure what I expected from him, but it wasn’t laughter. It echoes through the dining hall with an almost musical quality. My heart drops and I clench my hands in my lap, fighting the desire to fidget while he doesn’t even bother to regain his composure.
“Erleyans are so concerned with appearance,” Odgar says.
I unclasp my hands and wrinkle my nose, leaning back. “Pardon me?” I shift my focus to the clock again, then back to Odgar.
A smile graces Odgar’s lips once more, and he lowers his head, shaking it slightly. When he raises his head again, his expression is adamant, yet gentle. I practically melt into a puddle.
“I would love to get to know you better,” he says. “Outside of the”—he waves his large hands around—“air of perfection you’re forced to hold on to.”
My brows furrow.
“The rebel attack hasn’t scared me off. I would love to be your chosen suitor.” He leans in closer, and my breath hitches. “Between you and me, my competition was… underwhelming.” He grins before leaning back, calmly assessing me.
My traitorous lips quirk up into a smile of their own volition. “From where I was standing, it wasoverwhelming. I almost lost an eye or a toe a few times.”
“Gods, who was that scraggy little man prancing like a reindeer?”
I press my hand over my mouth as another bloodygiggleescapes me.
“See? Appearances,” he says with a smirk, reaching out to gently lower my hand. My skin warms. “What’s wrong with laughing aloud, Raven Princess?”
I let out a forceful sigh.
“Now that’s more like it. A raw, unhindered reaction. Somethingreal.”
“Gods,” I mutter with feigned exasperation. I glance sidelong at Callum whose jaw is clenched so tightly, I fear he’ll break his teeth. Turning to Odgar again, I say, “I believe the prancing reindeer was Prince Morand of Caldeon. Thank you for rescuing me.”
He smiles almost leisurely, and I find myself wishing for his easygoing nature. “Any time, Princess,” he says.
“How on earth can you remain so calm and collected? Even when the explosions happened, you barely flinched.”
He shrugs a broad shoulder. “I was raised a warrior, as are many Uldarans. I am not afraid of death. Nor am I of fate.”
A shiver flitters across my skin, his words replaying in my mind. “Odgar, this may sound strange but… may I ask you a few questions about Uldarvik?”
His smile widens. “Please do.”
For a while, I ask whatever comes to mind, taking mental notes as he responds with ease and proficiency. When I’m out of questions, the silence draws attention to the clock ticking away. I swear inwardly. Odgar stands, extending a large hand to me, his sleeves rolled back, revealing more ink against his copper skin.
“You’ve looked at the clock several times now. I imagine you have someplace to be?” he asks. His voice draws me back to his face, to the braid peeking over his shoulder, brassy blond curls escaping it.
“Unfortunately, I do.” I slip my hand into his, and he gently pulls me to my feet.
His lips lightly brush the back of my hand, and my heart gives an unnecessarily hardthump. Godsdamned… His sparkling gaze finds mine. My lips part, but emit no words.
The sound of footsteps cuts through the silence, and I tug my hand away, putting space between us.
