I eye him suspiciously, but answer honestly. “That he and Lady Bethany will not tolerate my attitude, aggression, or defiance. Is that why you’ve called upon me?”
I swear the slightest twitch of a grin is on his lips before he’s moving for a cabinet. He pulls out a bottle of liquid before pouring it into two glasses. Then, he carries them over to me and stops a few feet away. Lifting one glass, he says, “Would you care for a drink?”
Shifting my gaze from the glass in his hands to his face, then back again, I shake my head. Not wanting to compromise my mental strength after having already drunk two glasses of wine.
He dips his head, then pours one glass into the other, doubling the liquid before setting the empty one on the desk and leaning back against it. Taking a sip and watching me over the rim of the glass, he says, “I’ve been told not everyone here is…honest in their intentions.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” I turn a little in my chair to face him.
He tosses his head to the side, like he’s weighing what to say. “It means that the reason everyone’s memories have been wiped is in part to protect me.”
My eyebrows quirk up.So, not entirely true that they’ve been wiped for the trials?“And…you’ve brought me here because I’ve already made you suspicious in the fleetingtwoseconds I had bowing before your feet?”
Borderline impudent saying that to the King, Marcella. What are you thinking?But it’s too late. I’ve already said it, and instead of backtracking, I only cross my arms over my chest. Ready for whatever consequences come next.
Rather, a deeper grin hints at the corners of his lips at my nerve. He takes another drink, then sets the glass down next to the first one. Crossing his arms over his chest, too, he says, “Quite the contrary. What do you know of Aelia?”
“What? Aelia? I don’t really know her.”Did their dinner turn sour? Why did it end so quickly, and why is he here with me now?
“Devin mentioned you and Lyra spoke to her before our introduction.I was wondering if you’d be inclined to share what your conversations were about.”
I blink, recalling what she said at the table. “She said you were…” I shake my head to disperse the tension as his gaze lingers on me. “That you were absolutely stunning. And…truly handsome.”
His lips pull up into a crooked grin, and a flash of light shines through his eyes. “Oh, really? And what do you perceive of that statement?”
“Pardonme?”
Still grinning, he leans harder back into the desk. Is hetoyingwith me?
He asks simply, “Did you think she was lying?”
My eyes widen, a tightness gripping my throat as heat surfaces to my cheeks. “I mean…No? Yes? I?—”
Oh, Gods above. Is he asking if I think he’s attractive?I mean…in this light…yes? Most would. Probably. It likely also doesn’t help that I’ve had two glasses of wine. And we are in a room lit only by starlight and the fire in the hearth.
Sure. He’s got that sharp angle to his jawline, smoothly shaven and sleek. His nose is long and pointed, with white hair that cascades down to beneath his collarbones in soft waves. But the most damning of it all?
His eyes.
The way they watch and calculate. The irises completely void of color. A most bizarre shade of white that seems to have a molten inner core glowing even in the dim light.
And that’s not to say anything about his tailored coat and pants to fit his tall, lean frame, down to his polished boots like he’s never stepped outside before. He’s carved elegance, and yet his posture flirts with the idea of something dangerous.
Stunning isn’t quite the right word. And neither is handsome. He’s something else entirely…beautiful? Bewitching?
“Are you warm?” he asks with a tilt of his head, and pushes off the desk to tend to the fire. “I can tamp it down.”
I brush my hair back from my face, cursing myself for being so caught off guard by a straightforward question that it shows on my cheeks. And now I’m not sure if he’s being merciful in providing me a way out, or if he has sincerely mistaken my blush for an intolerance to warmth.
I stand up from my chair, brushing out any wrinkles at my hips. “Is that all that is needed from me? I’m quite tired.”
He stops at the hearth and slides his attention back to me but never looks higher than the ground. “Thank you for your time, Marcella. You may go, and I’ll call upon you tomorrow so we can try again.”
“Try…again?”
He nods at the door. “Devin will be waiting for you outside and will escort you back to dinner or your quarters. Whichever you prefer.”
Taking a few steps, I pause when I open the door a few inches and awkwardly curtsy before him before leaving. “Good night, my king.”
