Page 91 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

I drum my fingers on the box. “Still, there would be something.”

He sighs. “This is all I can tell you about what happened, Prince Reen.”

“I believe it was an emotional awakening, and when she calmed down, it stopped. We don’t awaken until we turn twenty-one.”

Alad flops the book onto the chair beside him. “I heard of a two-year-old boy burning his entire house down in an eruption of anger, air and fire. His mother said his hair turned red, and his eyes glowed crimson in the darkest of nights. What do you think of that?”

I storm past Alad and hiss, “Utter bullshit spouted by a king and queen who know nothing of wrath.”

“Where are you going?”

I wave the box in my hand and say, “I’m bored with this conversation, and I’m going to find entertainment elsewhere.”

He’s wrong. Where does listening to fables get us? Fucking nowhere. Alad must have been bothered by the fact that there was no explanation and scoured fantasy books instead, hoping to find something.

Down the flight of stairs, I tap my knuckles on her door. She opens it shortly after. My brow arches at what she’s wearing when she opens the door and lets me in. She wears baggy grey sweatpants—I assume Astin grabbed her some more clothes because she kept roaming in a shirt and underwear—and a tank top that leaves little to the imagination as it hangs low at the front. Considering she’s shorter than I am, it’s hard not to look down her shirt.

“Do you like what you see, Prince Reen?” Pandora says.

I look away and say, “Is that how you spoke to Xavier? Whispered sexual innuendos and passed them off as innocent?”

“Unfortunately, all I had to do was smile, and he went…” A darkened look crosses her face. “Never mind. Did you find a game? I’m fucking bored, and you seem to be the only entertaining elemny on this damn ship. Isn’t that funny?”

“Laughable,” I say, twitching a smirk.

Pandora rolls her eyes, but I notice a hint of a smile before she turns away and heads deeper into the bedroom. Without care or grace—something she severely lacks—Pandora flops onto the bed, crosses her legs, presses her hands onto her knees, and leans forward with curiosity. “What are we playing?”

I drop the box on the bed. “Connect Four. Do you know how to play?”

“Yes. You connect four of the colours?”

I sit on the bed, cross my legs, and open the box. “There are rules to this game.” Pandora’s eyes light up a bright brown. “Whoever wins gains the answer to their question or whatever you want done to them.”

“Can I ask for anything?”

“Anything.”

“So, if I want you to fuck off for the day, you would?”

“Yes,” I say, twitching a smile. “Before we start each round, we ask our designated question. I want us to have the motivation to win, and I want to see you squirm. It…excites me.”

“Sick fuck.”

I chuckle. “Sure, Pandora.”

She leans forward and purses her full lips. “Go on. What’s your question?”

“I believe you already know it. What caused you to awaken when we fought in the apartment building?”

Pandora sighs. “Of course, it would be like that. You’re like a dog with a bone. You can’t help but keep persisting.”

“What can I say?” I flip the rack up and divide the colours. “I’m a mutt.” With a beaming grin, Pandora moves closer and places the blue chips in her hand. “And yours?”

She ponders the thought. As she thinks, I line up the red chips, stacking them in threes to buy time.

“What made you hunt me?”

I huff a breath.