“Let’s make a pact,” Asherton said darkly, unwinding the bandage on his hand. “Whatever happens, we don’t tell Zeph about any assassination attempts, or strangeaccidents that may befall me, and if you happen to be the …” He cleared his throat. “… agent of any of those misfortunes, then you will do it quickly and quietly so he doesn’t find me until it’s long over. I don’t want to haunt his next eight hundred years with memories of bloody goodbyes and writhing around in the dirt. And try not to be too messy about it.”
“I’m not going to do anything to you, you buffoon!" Magdala could not believe she was calling the crown prince of Allagesh a buffoon, but he irked her so; she couldn’t help it.
Asherton just laughed and shoved the bandage into his pocket.
Magdala bit her lip, then said, “Alright, since you don’t believe me, at least believe that I’m not going to kill youright now. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”
“Witch!” he snapped. “Your mother is alive!”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you have a tell. You bite your lip before you lie.”
“That’s not a tell,” she objected, leading the way down the path. “It’s a twitch.”
When they reached the entrance, Zephyr was crossing the overgrown lawn, a net resting on his shoulder. Magdala jumped back, pushing Asherton into the bushes. His clothing snagged on sharp branches and he swore at her.
“We can’t let Zeph see us,” Magdala said. “Your shirt is all bloodied.”
Zephyr disappeared through the kitchen door and Magdala grabbed Asherton roughly by the arm, dragged him to his feet, and dashed across the grass. Asherton followed herat a sprint as they ran up the broad steps and burst through the open front doors.
Asherton took off down the hall, but Magdala couldn’t resist the urge to turn and shut the doors. As she did, footsteps sounded on the stairs to the kitchen. Panicked, Magdala barreled into Asherton, grabbing the front of his shirt as she searched the hallway for somewhere to hide. A broom closet stood open, and Magdala shoved him inside. She followed, sliding in beside him, then clicked the door shut, plunging them into darkness.
“You’re standing on my foot,” Asherton muttered.
“Hush!”
Every time she inhaled, her chest brushed Asherton’s chest. She was overwhelmingly aware of the warmth of his body pressed against her, his breath tickling her brow.
Zephyr’s footsteps pounded in the hall. Asherton stepped back, trying to widen the space between them, and upset a broom. It clattered to the floor, and Zephyr stopped outside the door.
Magdala clutched Asherton’s arm, steadying him. He inhaled sharply.
“This is childish,” she muttered.
“It does feel cowardly,” he whispered.
“If I was going to kill you, this would be the place.”
“Zephyr is literally outside the door right now.” Asherton laughed quietly. “Would you just step out after wiping your knife blade on your pants?”
Zephyr retreated down the hall.
“Alright,nowyou can slit my throat.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Magdala burst out of the closet, sticky with sweat. Asherton shoved past her and jogged up the stairs to his room. He was stepping into the washroom when she caught up to him.
“I’ll bind your hand again,” Magdala said, but Asherton shut the door in her face. “Your Highness!” She pounded her fist on the solid wood.
“I don’t trust you!”
“I already bound it once!”
“Poorly. Go keep watch for Zephyr!”
Magdala rattled the latch. “Let me in!”
“Miss Devney! Have some decency, I am in thewashroom.”
