A tense back faces me, muscles bunched at the shoulders. My jaw tenses. I’d rather spend time getting tortured by Zephyr than talk to theprince.But he’s left in my charge. As much as I’d gladly let a cerberus make him its next meal, he’s in my protection right now.
“Your sleeping quarters, your highness.” I throw out an arm dramatically, my voice dull as I show Adrian his tent.
He turns toward me, just a few paces away as his eyes flicker to the small tapestry set up.
“Where will you sleep?” He asks warily.
I don’t answer him. Isn’t it obvious? The tent can fit one person, that person is him. I’ll sleep outside, beneath the stars like any good warrior would.
“But…” His brows draw together tightly. “It isn’t safe out here alone, right?”
A harsh laugh rumbles from my chest.
I’m a warrior that has trained her entire life among thefiercest of Aegis fae. Even without my magic, I would bet on me winning against most of the creatures that roam this land. I’m trained to wake at the sound of a branch cracking hundreds of paces away.
Plus, I have Zephyr. And while she may be paired with Lunaria, she’s incredibly smart and attuned to Lunaria. She knows I’d protect Lunaria at all costs, so the creature would likely do the same for me.
But Adrian?
I laugh again, and his brows raise this time, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“You’re weak,” I hiss, meaning each word. “As a man and a king.”
Weakness is more than physical. More than stamina. My jab at him runs deeper than the surface. It’s aimed at his decisions when he was supposed to be my sister’s friend. I doubt she’s told me the full extent of their interactions, but I can see the wound left on her heart each time she looks at him. Even though she hides it well—with rage—I can see it written across her face. Her eyes give her away.
A look I know all too well, one that I used to have when I was younger.
My chest tightens as I let the emotions flow through me—the sadness for Lunaria, the twinge of pain at my younger self, and the justified fury I feel towards Adrian.
Lunaria hasn’t figured out yet that emotions don’t weaken us, they give us the strength to overcome the things that try to haunt us.
ButAdrian?
He represents the very thing I despise.
Adrian’s the face of the kingdom that refuses to see Penyth for anything other than evil. He’s followed what the oppressive men before him taught him, blindly believing their propaganda without a second thought.
He didn’t think for himself.
As much as I distrusted Lunaria when I first met her, I could see her individuality the moment I met her. Her drive and determination. She may have been a daughter of Crea, but she was meant to be in Penyth. She fit in the moment she stepped a foot into our kingdom, whether she believed it or not.
His face twists in anger.
“And you’re a bitch,” Adrian spits out.
I fall deathly still.
Before he can blink, my fist rears back and punches forward, connecting with his jaw. His head snaps back and blood pours from a split across the top of his left cheek.
The prince smiles and moves toward me. On instinct, my fist flies forward to block his ascent. My knuckles cut across his jaw this time, ricocheting his face to the right at an awkward angle.
He spits out a wad of light crimson liquid as salvia mixes with the blood in his mouth. “But you hit pretty fucking good.”
I blink, my gaze catching on the maroon dribble coming from the corner of his lip.
Maybe there’s more to him than I thought there was.
I busy myself by counting the rations of food I packed in my satchel. Then I go through Adrian’s bag, scooping it up and doing the same thing to his. We didn’t bring much, just enough food for the next several days, a leather skein for water which I would search for next, and the supplies for the tent.
