Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

16 | Codes

Five days passed before Zuher seemed to remember they existed.

There were no parties or banquets, or if there were then neither of them was required to attend. It was a blessed period of silence in which Del recovered however much one could under the circumstances, while Iliana refused to ignore what had transgressed. He seemed content to fall back into normalcy, but she was not.

The trouble came in her inexperience. How did one charm a prince from a position no better than a damsel of folktales? The roles were usually opposite, weren't they?

In the end, she fell on what she knew--action, not words.

"Can you teach me?"

Del sat his book aside, confusion knitting his brow as he swung his feet down from the window seat. "Pardon?"

Iliana crossed her arms as she drew in slow, even breaths to calm her heart-rate. Sweat lined her brow from her morning routine, no doubt adding to his confusion. Typically, while he balanced in the window, reading a book like a painting-posed nobleman, Iliana spent her morning post-exercise pacing like a trapped animal. Not today.

"You've implied that I will be the one to leave here--"

Del tensed.

"--and that you don't stand a chance at survival."

"Iliana--" he began.

"But, as I see it, the one with the higher survival odds is you, not me. I'm not practiced with the court and have--at most--two months of self-defense under my belt. If you die like you believe you will, my mouth will have me follow you, and my fists won't stop it. So, teach me."

That familiar, masking smile of his curled Del's lips as unsaid thoughts swirled behind his eyes. "I thought you were asking."

"I changed my mind."

"Like a true noble," he joked, before standing. "Alright. Let's see it, then. Where did those two months leave you?"

Del was a different kind of teacher from Lykos.

Perhaps it should have been expected. Trained knight or not, a prince was not a mercenary captain. Instead of educating her on how to take a hit, Del focused on the most basic of skills. A solid foundation, he lectured, was more important than anything else. It led to talks on proper drills, things she could practice if alone. And when she struggled with where exactly to put her feet, Del showed her.

Which had admittedly been her goal.

With her back flush to his as he drew her duster-armed hand into position, there was little doubt in her mind that Del was finding it as difficult to be indifferent of her as she was of him. Incidental touches became more common. As did quiet moments in which she could feel his eyes following her movements.

And yet, he remained stubbornly silent and still.

By the time she was summoned before Zuher again, that line he'd reforged between them felt both more delicate and more pronounced than anything she had initially placed. It was equal parts frustrating and impressive--and so distracting she barely noticed the path to his office. It wasn't until Iliana stood in front of the door as Aria knocked that she remembered what she had to do.

Del needed to be useful.

Somehow, Iliana needed to make him into a fun game that kept Zuher entertained. As long as they held his interest, as long as his life held value to the madman, Del's execution wouldn't be ordered.

Zuher's voice rang out, beckoning her into the familiar space. As expected, he sat behind his desk, flipping through neatly pinned documents with a look of utter boredom drenching his features. Unexpectedly, glasses lay perched on his nose. Iliana furrowed her brow as she dipped into the appropriate curtsy, trying to recall if she'd ever seen him wearing them before.