Old habit.
I remembered when that posture had made me proud of him.
I stopped three feet from the bars and looked at him. The bruise along his jaw had deepened overnight. It was purple-black, now swollen at the cheekbone.
“You look well,” I said.
One of his eyebrows arched. “You look tired.”
“Kings don’t sleep.”
“Kings who destroy their own people don’t deserve to.”
The torch to my left guttered. Neither of us moved.
“I didn’t come to argue,” I said.
“Then why did you come?”
I studied him. His amber eyes hadn’t changed; they were still sharp, still reading me the way they always had: peeling back the layers, looking for the seam where Arthur ended and the king began. Once I’d found that comforting. Once I’d told him things I’d never said to another living soul.
That had been a different time, though. A different life.
“The girl,” I said.
Kill him,the dragon piped up.He offends us by his attachment to her.
Something shifted in his face. Just for a second, but it was enough.
“Don’t,” he started.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t touch her.”
I tilted my head. “Touchher. That’s an interesting way to put it.”
“Arthur.” His voice dropped until it was low and flat. It was the voice he used when he meant every word he said. “She’s done nothing that warrants—”
“—she’s done everything that warrants whatever she has coming to her,” I said. “What’s more, she’s my prisoner. That means I do with her whatever I please.”
“She came here because Merlin ordered her to come here.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to hear about the reasons why the witch did what she had. “I don’t care.”
“Arthur, she’s not the enemy you’re making her out to be.”
“Yes, she is. She’s that and more.”
His jaw tightened. The muscle along it jumped twice, then stilled. He wasn’t going to say anything more. Maybe because he was too proud. Or too careful. But he didn’t have to say anything more. I’d already seen the truth the moment I walked in and said her name.
“She’s not your concern,” I said. “She’s mine. My prisoner, my problem, my property until I decide otherwise.”
“She’s not property.”
“Everything in this kingdom is property, Corvin. What’s more: it’s property that’s mine. The fields. The roads. The peoplewho walk them.” I took a step closer to the bars. “The prisoners in my cells. They all belong to me.”
“I won’t let you harm her.”
