Snapping to the first door, I let myself in.
A drawing room—with surprisingly stunning artwork. I wonder who painted these as I run a finger along a frame’s edge, the manicured garden blooming with spring and dappled in moonlight, the depiction of Goreon Castle in its background not nearly as ominous-looking as it is now.
I abandon the painting and slip back into the hall and through the next door.
First office.
Beelining for the desk, I yank open the top drawers and riffle through papers, scanning scrawled cursive and crests.
Correspondence with the Old Tritan territory, dated only a decade ago.
Interesting. Andnoted.
The Night Kingdom will be paying a visit to our eastern mountains.
My spine tingles as I leaf through more communication from across the Sereia Sea and territories north of Goreon. Perhaps correspondence between regions is more common than I thought. Perhaps it’s just the Night Kingdom that has been cut off.
Shit.
I slam the drawers shut and move to the cabinet on the wall.
Ledgers and banking. Many of Nerian’s nobles are in debt to the king. Also noted.
My twenty minutes are disappearing quickly.
I sprint back into the hall and snap to the next door, hand on the knob—
The slap of bare footsteps on stone freezes me in place, and I pause in a shadow as Nerian patters down a hall to my left.
Oh my gods.
I ready to follow him, pulling a pin from my bun.
I won’t try to kill him, but I want to see where he’s going in his bare feet in the middle of the fucking day. I truly thought everyone would be in rest right now, and I’ll take this unexpected opportunity without hesitation.
Nerian disappears around the corner, and I step forward quietly to tail him.
Panic spins down my spine as I’m grabbed from behind and pushed up against the wall.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Del snarls in a whisper, his lips a breath from mine, bright eyes searching for an answer from me.
He’s stronger, and his hips have me pinned to the marble at my back.
The scent of him hits me—first, the sensual traces of jasmine and cinnamon, then a warm, woodsy pine curls around me.
And the grip of his fingertips at my waist plumes desire I’m not prepared for, and my insides twist against my will. Heart racing, I stare into his eager plum eyes that hold fear, not malice.
Del’s hand braces on the wall beside me, caging me in like he’s trying to hide me from sight. “Nerian will kill you without blinking, Queen Veya.”
I already know that.
I swallow, lips parting as my gaze flicks to Del’s mouth, and I press a hand to his firm chest, pushing him away to catch my breath.
I’m here to kill a king, not be distracted by stunning gentlemen.
Del steps back, and I don’t miss the graze of his fingertips along my hip before his hand drops to his side.
The sensation of his touch lingers.
