“No one’s ever punched someone on my behalf before,” I say quietly, gaze fixed on the makeshift bandage.
He lets out a breath that sticks somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “I’ve never had to punch someone on a woman’s behalf before.” A pause. “Doesn’t feel as great as I thought it would.”
He flexes his fingers and winces. There’s a jagged split along his middle knuckle, an inky stain blooming against the deep velvet as I finish tying the bandage.
My lips curve. “Well… Thank you.”
He doesn’t reply right away. And when I finally look up, he’s watching me. The flames in the lanterns pulse a slow, flickering rhythm, and the heat in the tent spikes. Or maybe it simply feels hotter under the weight of his eyes on me.
The moment stretches. One breath. Then another.
His coffee-black gaze is steady. He’s looking through me, not at me, peeling back the layers I’ve added to keep myself safe.
My throat tightens. Declan’s hand is still in mine, my thumb smoothing over the velvet as he looks at me like I’m a question he wants to find the answer to. And I suddenly,desperatelywant him to try.
I’m aware that I’ve fully become a cliché. One punchand my ovaries are ready to hand over the keys to the kingdom. All because someone other than me made me feel protected.
My foot is falling asleep, so I shift, rising onto my knees to let the blood flow back to my extremities. If I’m lucky, it’ll also move to my brain. But since when have I been lucky?
As the space between us shrinks, Declan’s breath catches. Or maybe that’s mine.
The torches flare as his eyes drop to my mouth, and I swear he starts to lean down, to eliminate the gap of air between us, to bring his lips to mine.
My heart is a drumline in my chest, loud and powerful. I want Declan totryto reach me, but I’m not ready for him to succeed.
I pull my hands back quickly, fingers slipping free from his, and rise to my feet so fast I’m dizzy.
“We still need to find Fortune.” I scurry back toward the trunk, hands already digging through fabrics, desperate for a task to busy my mind. “And I need more practical footwear.”
“How are we supposed to find her?” Declan’s voice is low, thoughtful. “Assuming that guard wasn’t entirely incompetent, he genuinely didn’t know who she was. Does that mean she’s not local?” He pauses, eyes unfocused, tracking some invisible calculation. “If she isn’t from here… That might complicate things.”
The bed frame creaks as he leans back, long legs stretching out over the silk cushions. One arm hooks behind his head, the motion pulling his wrinkled button-down taut across his chest. He drags his bandaged hand along his jaw. “How big do you suppose this kingdom is?”
A chime punctures the air, and I yip, dropping an armful of clothes. My gaze snaps to the corner of the tent where a small bronze bell I hadn’t noticed before sways on a cord.
From outside the tent, someone clears their throat.
Declan pushes up from the bed, his injured fist clenched, ready to fight Dav if he’s come back for more. The sight sends a hot pulse through me, and my traitorous mouth tips into a grin.
Ack, no!I donotget turned on by potential displays of violence in defense of my honor.
“Declan,” I start, but it comes out in a nasally maternal tone that makes me wince.
He ignores it and yanks back the flap.
Tarek stands there, head cocked, arms folded in front of him. “Supplies have arrived from the Everspring along with goods from Pentacles. There are many camels to unload, and Dav volunteered you.”
“Of course he did,” Declan mutters. He glances back at me, a ghost of a smile creasing the corners of his eyes, and warmth rushes under my skin. “Ready to get sneezed on by another camel?”
I glare, mostly to cover the way my stomach swoops.
Tarek sets the pace, cutting a smooth path through the narrow aisle of tents as Declan and I fall in behind him.
“Getting sneezed on by a camel is a great blessing!” Tarek calls back over his shoulder.
Declan huffs a laugh. “Hear that, Amanda? Ablessing.”
“And here I thought I was just unlucky. Guess I’ve been wrong this whole time.”
