“It is,” I say curtly.
“Then I’m here to use it, Your Highness.”
“Fine.”
“I actually think we’re done for the day, Mae,” Elle says from beside me. We have been working for over an hour. I nod and grab my water bottle before heading out of the space.
“Lovely to see you again, Your Highness,” Asmo says with a smirk before we exit.
I toss a hand back in a wave but don’t respond otherwise.
“You have to do something about that,” Elle says as the doors shut behind us.
“About what?” I ask innocently.
She waves back toward the gym doors and says, “Whatever the hell that was.”
“Why?” I ask her before taking a swig of my water.
She gives me a pointed look. “Even if you don’t end up marrying him, which seems is the likely outcome, he’s going to be the King of the Serpent House. If there is tension between the High Houses,thisisn’t going to help. At the very least, you need to be cordial with everyone.”
I sigh as I mull over her words. She’s right. “I hadn’t considered that.” I tug at the ends of my hair as we head down the path toward the castle. “What do I do now?”
“Try to resolve it during your date. Maybe try being nice to him if you see him again before then.”
I nod in agreement. “Fine. What’s next for today?”
“I was thinking we could go to a clearing and work on some elemental abilities,” she suggests. “There’s one right around this corner.” She points to a bend in the path.
I begin to nod in agreement, but I stop myself. “Actually, can we work on me being able to detect lies?” I ask.
She looks startled by the request but says, “Of course.”
“Perfect. Want to meet me back in my wing in ten minutes?”
“Meet you? What?” she asks, turning her head to me.
“I’m gonna go back and apologize to Asmo,” I explain.
We agree to reconnect as soon as I’m done with Asmo, so I head back to the training center. When I get there, he’s doing squats on the squat rack. His shirt is already damp with sweat, and his black shorts show off his well-defined, powerful legs. He powers through each rep, coming down slowly, then bursting back to the starting position. As much as I hate to admit it, his backside is impressive.
He eyes me in the mirror as I approach and racks the weight. His chest rises and falls hard as he catches his breath.
“Hey,” I say lamely.
“Enjoying the view?”
I take a deep breath, gathering the strength to put my ego aside. “I’m sorry I snapped at you—that I’ve been snapping at you,” I say, not meeting his gaze. I don’t particularly feel apologetic toward him. He deserved my attitude with all the inappropriate remarks he’s made toward me.
He laughs—actually laughs—and I feel the anger rising back up. But then he says, “No. You’re not sorry. I’ve been a dick to you.”
He’s looking at me in that intense way that he does.
“You’re right,” I admit. “I’m not sorry for snapping at you after the comments you’ve made toward me. I am sorry, however, that we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Apology accepted,” he says, then shifts on his feet. “Look, I get it. You’re mad at the world. So am I, which is why I was rude to you.”
I look at him, trying to feel for signs of deception, but he appears genuine. “Is that an apology?” I ask.
