"I still wonder about it," I said.
His brow furrowed, eyes searching my expression. "Wonder about what?"
"Whether you're the villain in my story."
~~~~~~~
Mara Monroe is at the center of a war she wanted no part in.
But with her new throne she fac...
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Andras glanced at me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the man who had turned the corner to face us. Jet-black hair and silver eyes and a face that made me want to punch him.
He was especially punchable as he leaned haphazardly against the wall. It looked like he didn't have a care in the world. As if I hadn't banished him, and sentenced him to death if I ever saw him again. As if I hadn't tried to do just that the moment he walked into the dining celebration yesterday.
"You don't like coffee?" Andras asked casually, but he'd taken a step forward as if to put himself between the Autumn lord and me.
Which one of us he was trying to protect, however, I wasn't sure.
"No," Cedric answered for me again, his eyes lazily holding my own, "she thinks it tastes like charcoal."
My fingertips flared with that golden fire. Perhaps it was my imagination but Cedric's eyes seemed to flicker down to my hands so quickly that I wasn't sure it was real. I held my hands behind the folds of my dress just in case. Once I composed myself well enough to turn back to Andras, I directed my comments only at him, not sparing the other fey lord another look.
My sudden urge to deny Andras was gone. Now, I was eager to accept his offer.
"I would like to do that with you. Perhaps my tastes have changed."
A scoff came from somewhere against the wall, but I didn't look. Andras seemed pleased that I had accepted but anxious that Cedric and I were in the same hallway. I realized as the Winter Prince eyed my movements warily that it was because he thought I was the one who was a danger to Cedric. And that pleased me.
"May I speak to you alone, Princess?"
"I am no longer a princess," I bit back at the voice on the wall, "not since my grandmother died, or did you forget?"
He visibly winced and I wished it made me feel better, but it didn't.
"That's not a good idea, Cedric," Andras voiced the concern.
I echoed the sentiment. It wasn't because I worried that Cedric would hurt me—not physically anyways— he'd had so many opportunities to do so before and he hadn't taken them. Perhaps that was not sound logic and perhaps there was another reason why I knew that he wouldn't.
"Don't worry, she can take care of herself," he mused to neither of us in particular, "she stabbed me once, you know."
Andras' eyes went to mine in shock. I shrugged, trying to keep the embarrassment off of my face. It was true, I'd stabbed him when we traveled to West Acres and I learned the true extent of his betrayal and how deep it ran. My heart still ached with the memory of him stomping on it that day.
I wanted to stab him again the moment he shot me another little pleased smirk.
