In a move so fast it seemed to blur, she reached into a sheath attached to her belt, pulled out a knife, and held it to the man’s throat.
“Touch me one more time, and I’ll paint this whole forest in the lovely shade of Soldier Goon, Number Fifty-Seven.”
Vishen cleared his voice, making all parties stiffen and turn. Their gazes fell on him, then me. Their eyes widened as they all rushed to press their fists over their hearts and bow.
The woman, though, kept direct eye contact the whole time. Maybe it was wrong of me, but I liked her defiance. That was what was necessary for people working for me. Because there would be times when they would need to listen to me, not my father.
“Nira, I presume?” Vishen said, looking at the woman.
Nira was a mix of military-fit and feminine curves—strong arms, muscular thighs, round hips, and a heavy chest. She was tall for a woman, nearly the same height as Vishen, with deep red hair pulled back in a high ponytail, golden brown eyes, and a charming smattering of freckles over her nose and cheekbones.
There was a hardness to her features, though. And I imagined if she had spent the last year or so dealing with pushy assholes like the ones right behind her, she needed to be that way.
“You two can leave,” I said to the men, who looked offended but quickly retreated.
Nira stepped back, glancing to make sure the soldiers weren’t lingering around.
“What is this about? I have a job to do.”
“You’re in the presence of the prince,” Vishen reminded her.
“Yeah. And his father will have me whipped if someone else reports me for shirking my duties. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t drop to my knee and kiss his ring.”
Vishen shot me a look as he tried to press a smile flat.
“Well, if the prince here likes you, you won’t have to worry about those duties or whippings anymore,” Vishen told her.
Nira’s keen eyes moved to me for a split, uninterested second before focusing back on Vishen.
“Well, you can tell the prince that I have no interest in him liking me, nor anything that might come from his interest.”
“I have no interest in fucking you, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” I said, making Vishen snort.
“What do you want with a female soldier then?”
“My new wife needs a guard.”
Her chin lifted at that. And whether she was aware of it or not, I saw the way her eyes went bright. That was interest. Because a soldier was just another number, a meaningless position to the court. But a guard? A guard had a lot of prestige and respect. There’d be no more pushing around or unwanted advances from her peers. Because she would be above them.
“I want a female guard whom I can trust to be alone with her.”
“But?” she asked.
“But I want someone who answers to me, not my father.”
“Why is that?” she asked, but she seemed too smart not to understand why that was. Only a fool would be able to exist close to the court and not see him losing his mind.
“There seem to be some threats to Serin,” Vishen slid in to answer. “But we don’t want to bring the issue to the king until we have more information.”
“What kind of threats?”
“She’s been poisoned,” he told her. “Pricked with something to make it impossible for her to speak.”
“Bellhush.”
“Yes,” Vishen agreed.
“A guest?”