All's Fair in Revenge

Chapter 40: The Interruption

The prince embraced me with the king and queen watching from behind. "This is why women do not hunt," the queen patronized from the steps while the king did little to hide his disappointment.

"I now see you were right, Your Graces. I will heed your advice next time."

How'd that taste?

The same as slurping a rotten egg, I'd imagine. Welcome back, by the way. So nice of you to finally join me. Where were you when I nearly died in a pit of snakes a few days ago?

Busy.

Busy. Well, by all means, don't let me keep you.

From there and with all due propriety, I dashed for the bed quarters where I hoped to find Liv. I'd check her for harm—make sure not a single one of them laid a hand on her — and then gather the courage I'd need to question her about my mother. Funny how relaying my new plan, one that sent her home, seemed less daunting than the subject of the Golden Healer.

"You can go now," I said to Thorne, resolve steeling my posture. His breath had knocked on my shoulder all the way up to my door. "Thank you for your help, sincerely, but I'm no longer in need of you."

"Yes, you made that abundantly clear during the last several miles and throughout the castle," he said, staring at the mud caked around his boots. A tick of annoyance flexed upon his tongue. Renewed with my determination, I had leaped onto Sleipnir, riding him off into the burdening night, forcing Thorne to pant alongside us for several miles before I allowed him up, but only when he promised not to try and change my mind; a normal promise, to be clear. I would never force him to promise me anything ever again. Unless I must, "but I'm here to have a word with your Second Guard before I retire. She ought to be here."

"I'm quite sure Alona's not even here," I said, though something inside my chest dared admit otherwise. "She probably thinks me dead like everyone else and preparing for her next assignment. So go on now. Look elsewhere."

Thorne's arms crossed over his chest, wrinkling his shirt, revealing the dip in muscle below his collarbone. I tugged my eyes to his face as he said, "Not once did I clock you as oblivious."

I paused my hand on the latch. Was he baiting me or had I missed something? "I'm tired. I'm hungry. And as you'll recall, I'm to be married tomorrow."

That is a horrible idea, but I support it. Encourage it even.

I didn't ask for your opinion.

And yet there it is all the same.

Thorne shifted in visible discomfort, his mind redirecting to the tight string between us; one I wished to ignore, and he wished to pull tighter. Unless I'd made it all up in my head. I probably had, my subconscious latching onto his subtle cues to escape my inevitable doom. I was about to walk a tight rope over a careening river, why not focus on the beautiful landscape ahead rather than the drop below.

And he was beautiful, wasn't he? Not in the traditional sense, not like the prince whose maker had pieced him together with the finest parts, but in other, more important ones; It was the way his laugh boomed unhindered with no regard for tight spaces. It was the corner of his frustrated mouth smiling up into his unusual eyes somehow glistening with amusement at the same time. And it was how I had yet to exhaust him with my anger, my arguing, my impertinence...my impatience. Though, I supposed there was still time for that.