“For example, you smell different when you’re nervous,” he adds, like he’s being helpful.
“That’s horrifying information.” I press my hand to my forehead and rub it. I don’t dare look over at him. “Please keep that to yourself.”
He chuckles softly under his breath, like even he understands why I might think it’s weird.
Unfortunately, the rough sound of that laugh does absolutely nothing to slow my heart down.
I tighten my grip on the wheel and focus on calming all my bodily functions so they won’t give me away. So he won’t know how aware of him I am right now.
For a second, I can still feel his gaze on me.
Studying.
He finally looks back out the windshield.
My signal clicks as I merge into traffic heading toward the highway.
Long minutes pass with neither of us saying anything.
It’s not a peaceful silence. Not the kind you sink into with someone you know. This one is crowded, like the air between us is full of things neither of us knows how to say.
I shift in my seat, tighten my grip on the steering wheel, then loosen it again when my knuckles start to ache.
“So,” I say finally. “Your uncle.”
Sorren goes very still beside me, and I wish I hadn’t brought it up. But still, I need to understand. To know what I’m up against.
“He attacked me,” he says after a moment.
“Yeah, you mentioned that part. Left you for dead, tried to steal your crown, etcetera.” I glance over. “Why?”
A beat passes.
“Because he could not take it from my father,” Sorren replies.
“He waited until your dad died?” I ask.
Silence.
I glance over again.
Sorren is staring straight ahead.
“He did not wait,” he says, his voice flat. “He killed him, my father. Murdered him,” Sorren continues. “Three nights ago. In the throne room.”
My foot lifts from the gas without me meaning to do it.
“Uncle Rion wanted witnesses,” Sorren adds after a moment. “To make it clear the line had ended. That there would be no one left to challenge him.”
My stomach turns over, nauseated.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
My throat tightens. “What were you doing?”
“Watching,” he says.
