“Of course, Father,” she said. “You know my heart’s greatest desire is to spend more time with Councilor Ritter!”
King Tristan glared at her insolence.
Haydn made his way around the table to Evelyn, not bothering to hide his delight. “That’s my favorite princess!”
He put a hand on her back and guided her toward the front of the palace.
“Where are we going?” Evelyn hissed at him.
“For a walk. Don’t worry, your goons will supervise us.”
Evelyn glanced back. Damien and Rory were following them.
“Would I be in danger if they weren’t here?” she asked.
“Have I ever tried to hurt you?” Haydn challenged. He opened the front door, then bowed dramatically. “After you.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes and went outside. Haydn left the door open, expecting Damien and Rory to continue their patrol.
“Honestly, Princess,” he said. “I dance with you. I tell you how beautiful you are. I make promises to help you. I have only been truthful with you. And you still think I have ill intentions?”
“Yes,” Evelyn replied. “Why else would you trick me into a tattoo?”
“We could make another deal?—”
“No.”
“A deal where I swear not to harm you.”
“No.”
“It would be magically binding. With a strong enough Bargain, it would actually kill me if I hurt you.”
“There’s a possibility of you dying?” Evelyn quipped. “I’m intrigued.”
“You don’t mean that.” Haydn ran a finger down her arm affectionately. “You were worried about me after the explosion, remember?”
I remember everything about the explosion.
And no, I don’t want anything bad to happen to Haydn. But I don’t have the energy to deal with his games today.
They wandered up the cobblestone road along the west side of the river. Damien and Rory stayed about fifty feet behind them.
“So you want the deal?” Haydn asked.
“Absolutely not.”
“You don’t even know what I want in exchange.”
“Is it just me”—Evelyn pondered—“or is there something dubious about only promising not to hurt me if you get something in return?”
“That’s a fair point. Forget the deal.”
Haydn drew a small dagger out of a pocket. Before Evelyn could scream or run, Haydn sliced his own palm open and quickly put the dagger back. Damien and Rory wouldn’t have been able to see anything other than Evelyn’s horrified expression.
Haydn held out his bleeding hand like he was giving her a present. “I promise to the old gods that I will never cause you physical harm, Evelyn Connolly.”
He closed his hand into a fist for the length of three heartbeats, then opened it again. The blood had vanished and there was no sign of injury.
