I must have taken too long to answer, because he growls, “I lost every single man in my command today. And once the attackers realized you were the princess, theyprotectedyou. I’m not feeling very charitable. Do not test me.”
“Fine,” I bite out. “I’ll answer your questions.”
“Did you know about the attack?”
“No.”
“Who attacked us?”
“I don’t know. I think it was the Rebellion.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Probably because they’re actively engaged in a war against both our kingdoms?”
Daft idiot.
He searches my face intently but still seems unsatisfied.
“Why didn’t the rebels harm you?”
“I imagine they were preoccupied with your thunder tantrum.”
He growls. His fingers dig into my wrists, the rough rope burning my already chafed skin. The sky darkens, storm clouds gathering overhead.
“When you fainted, they shielded you.Why?”
Thunder rumbles, low and threatening.
“I—I don’t know!” I stammer, eyes glued to the ominous clouds. My heart pounds a frantic staccato against my ribcage, and I wonder if he feels it thrumming against his chest. “Maybe they wanted to ransom me.”
My breath cleaves through me like a blade. With his heavy weight pinning me down, I can barely suck in a lungful of air. A flash of lightning briefly illuminates one of the dark clouds. My pulse thunders in my ears.
“Why did you faint?” he asks. My eyes snap to his—he looks less angry but makes no move to climb off me.
I tear my gaze away. I can’t tell a tidesdamnedstormwielderthat I’m terrified of storms. Especially not one convinced I was somehow involved in the attack.
“What princesswouldn’tfaint in the midst of battle? They had tidesdamned bombs!”
“That’s not what I asked. Why didyoufaint?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
Another rumble of thunder, and a pathetic whimper escapes me.
I hate this. I hate him.
I cut my eyes away, cheeks flaming. He’s not going to let this go.
“I’m afraid of thunderstorms.” The words are quiet, whispered.
Damning.
“Why?” His brows are furrowed, his firm grip loosening marginally on my aching wrists.
“It’s none of your business!” I snap, embarrassment and anger and sheer exhaustion warring in my chest. “I’m not answering any more questions. Kill me if you must.”
His grip loosens further, and I wince as circulation returns to my tingling fingers. He tracks the motion and jerks his hands away as if the rope burned him.
