Page 46 of Black Sea

When he pulled his hand away, Amlach slid his index finger along my wounded one, staining himself with blood. With his gaze fixed on mine, he brought his finger to his lips and licked it.

I followed with my eyes the slow motion of his tongue with my eyes, then suddenly jerked them away from his mouth, my ears on fire. “You’re disgusting,” I muttered as I screwed the lid onto the jar.

“And you’re lucky we’re not alone,” he replied, his deep voice carrying dark, carnal promises.

I cut him a murderous glance, grabbed the clothes of my size, and walked furiously toward the shower stall at the back of the room.

“Ah, ah, ah!” I heard Amlach exclaim, suddenly bothered. “Be good soldiers, stay where you are, and let her dress down there without the worry of having your perverted gazes on her.”

I couldn’t help but smile again as I let the towel fall to the ground. I slipped on brown trousers and a white blouse, both made of soft, fresh linen; they were slightly large on me, but it felt wonderful to finally wear clean clothes, not hardened by the sun and salty water.

I returned to Amlach, who had worn clothes like mine, and I sat beside him to put on the boots. As I tied them, I felt his gaze on me, yet I dared not meet his eyes, not even for a moment.

Once we were ready, the fifth guard chained us together again and ordered us to follow him.

However, Amlach did not care and gave our chain a firm yank, demanding my full attention. “Don’t pout just because you can’t accept that you, too, want what I want,” he hissed under his breath.

“You’re wrong,” I replied through my teeth, shoving back the instinct to push him away from me, yell at him, and . . .

I blinked rapidly to dispel the forbidden thought that had crept into my mind, and I rushed toward the fifth soldier, who had been waiting for us at the threshold.

Just before we stepped out into the open, I felt Amlach’s warm breath against my ear. “You’re a liar, Elf.”

27

Master Roxior awaited us in the entrance hall, busy confabulating with the old housekeeper, who appeared visibly upset. Dressed in a red and white robe and holding a closed wooden fan, the man stared at us when the guards ordered us to stop a few steps away.

“Better,” he remarked, alluding to our appearance, but he did not seem entirely satisfied.

The woman, too, looked at us from head to toe with her stony gaze. “Their look will improve, Master.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll make them presentable for the start of the Games, Lotte,” he replied with a hint of a smile that made her pout even more.

The old man turned to us and raised a thick, shaggy eyebrow.

“Good morning, Master Roxior,” Amlach greeted him, performing a small bow that concealed a mocking intent as he deliberately brushed my arm with his.

Understanding at once, I set my jaw to keep from lashing out at him and made a small curtsy.

Roxior tapped the fan against his palm, his icy eyes intrigued by our silent interaction. “I see that you’ve already tamed her properly, Commander.”

Wrath struck me like a thunderbolt, but before I could snap, Amlach anticipated my reaction with a tone that was more than severe, more than biting.

“She is a lady, my lord, not an animal. Bowing to you, even though you have thrown us into a cell alongside the cattle and still keep us bound, she shows you not only respect but also the grace of her people.”

“Ah . . .” Roxior heaved a sigh, thoughtful. “And would she still do it if you weren’t by her side?” he asked, gesturing with the fan.

I tensed up so much that I felt like I might implode. Amlach noticed and casually nudged my biceps with his elbow to share his calmness.

“The princess is wiser than us, Master,” he said in an equally astute tone. “I’m sure she’s just scared. I don’t think she has ever been so long apart from her family and her people in all her long years of life.” He cut me a glance. “Am I right?”

Suddenly, I recalled my father’s words before the last battle against Mornon the Abomination. He had named me his heir because he recognized in me the qualities of his mother and was convinced that I would rule with the same wisdom and kindness she possessed.

But all I had done so far was be hostile, allowing anger—and yes, even the fear of never coming home again—to take over me.

It was time to change my attitude.

Even though my father could not see me, from now on, I would try to be the heir he believed I was and behave diplomatically, just as I was sure my grandmother would.