Page 158 of Blood of the Fairest

But she's right that I apparently am greedier than Gilda when it comes to her. I hold it higher.

"What will I get as thanks for returning it?"

"I see how it is. Two can play at that game, Lancelot."

I don't know what she just called me, but I enjoy eyeing her backside through that skirt as she turns around, bending to pick up my helmet near her feet. She holds it up triumphantly as she faces me again, a smirk on those kissable lips.

I hum. "A shoe doesn't seem like an equal trade for a helmet. Maybe I should offer something more valuable, to make it even."

She yawns again, and I abruptly realize she must be exhausted after such a long journey. But she still plays along, smiling at me.

"Oh, yeah? What do you have that I could possibly want?"

Since I only know of one thing she might want from me, and since I am determined to better understand this fascinating woman, I decide to be blunt.

"My blood."

All humor disappears from her face. She's abruptly guarded, her gaze flicking down to the small cut above my lip.

"You're right to be wary, but if he's a danger to your secret, Wulf can deal with him. Take the offer and drink from him, Fairest," the ghost urges quietly. "At the very least, it may take the edge off your torture."

Torture?

I want to ask what he means—but out of habit, I keep my cards close to my chest. Neither of them needs to know I can see her ghost friend, so I keep my gaze on her.

But while Verena lapped at my blood so eagerly during our kiss, she suddenly looks almost sickened.

Looking away, she sets my helmet down on the ground, clearing her throat uncomfortably.

"Keep the fucking shoe. I don't want your blood."

My heart stumbles as I realize I've made a misstep with her, somehow. "But earlier, you⁠—"

"Could you do me a big favor and just forget about earlier?" she cuts in, rubbing her throat as if it's causing her pain. "We don't even know each other's names, so that should be easy, right?"

"I'd rather not," I murmur, moving closer to offer her the shoe.

Verena accepts it, slipping it on at once. Her guard is still up.

"Fine, then could you please not tell anyone about the whole me-nearly-biting-you thing?"

I lean down, trying to catch her eye to put her at ease again. "I wasn't going to tell anyone, anyway, Ruby. I swear that whatever your secret is, you're safe with me."

"Who said I have a secret?" she grumbles, already backing out of the stable. "Okay, well—thanks again, Mr. Knight. Sorry I got a little carried away, but I should really go rest up for the masquerade before I run out of self-control. Bye."

It's difficult, but I force myself to stay put as Verena hurries out of the stable, taking my heart with her.

I don't know why my offer to give her blood rubbed her the wrong way after we hit it off, but chasing her now would only make her more wary of me.

The ghost haunting my armor vanishes the moment she leaves. I exhale a frustrated breath as I look down at my discarded helmet.

I'll need a better way to approach Verena tomorrow night, during the masquerade. Some way to ensure she'll at least talk to me—especially because she'll realize I lied to her by omission.

But first, I need to ensure I can have any time to speak with her at all.

With a sigh, I pick up pieces of my armor, donning it once more with determination.

It's time for me to pay a visit to the queen.