Page 47 of I Destroyed the Elf Prince's Harem

“Oh. Yeah. Of course. I told you I would be helpful to have traveling with you. I’m better at more than distractions.”

Nylian straightened and rubbed his hands together, appearing to enjoy the softness. “Tomorrow, I would prefer no distractions. We’re staying very low key. We need to be as discreet as possible.” He paused and stared at me for a second. “Get some rest. We will start early. You might want to consider shaving, though.”

“What?” I jumped to my feet and rushed across the room to gaze at my reflection in the mirror. The mustache and goatee looked a little long, but it wasn’t messy or scruffy yet. It could do with a trim, but to shave it all off seemed extreme. “You don’t think I look bad, do you?”

Nylian leaned on my back and reached around to trail one finger down my mustache to brush over my pursed lips to bump across my chin. “No, I don’t think it’s unattractive. It draws the proper amount of attention to those adorable lips of yours.”

I smacked his hand away and straightened, while the elf chuckled and dodged my attempts to hit him with ease. “Annoyance.”

“We will talk more about it tomorrow.” He spun away and walked to my door, but I stopped him again.

“Wait. I want to ask a favor.”

Nylian paused with his hand on the knob, his brows lifted in silent question.

“When we have a free moment, like when we’re on the road, would you be willing to teach me how to use a sword?”

There was no denying it any longer. Distractions wouldn’t be enough for me to remain useful to this man. The farther we traveled, the more dangerous it was becoming. He needed someone who could physically protect him. There was no hope of me learning magic, and in this world, you knew how to use a sword or you died.

All the laughter disappeared from Nylian’s face, and the prince surprised me by bowing his head to me. “It would be my honor to teach you.”

Without another word, he slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

My hand drifted up to my lips, which still tingled from his touch. Sometimes I was sure I could guess his thoughts, and there were others that I hadn’t a clue what was filling his head. I obviously didn’t know him as well as I’d thought when I began writing his story.

Speaking of…

With the hour still early and no one trying to kill me, I had a chance to make a few notes. I dragged the chair over to the small table with the somewhat sturdy legs. I grabbed a clean piece of parchment and one of my new quills and listed anything I could remember from my plotting notes or even character notes. I’d started working on the book with three main ideas for who’d arranged for the death of Orian.

Naturally, the first was Victor Montcroix, but that turned out to be one of my red herrings.

The second was the king and queen of Galinaes, who we were going to dig up some dirt on next.

And, finally, there were all of Nylian’s siblings. Both he and Orian stood in their way of inheriting the throne. Killing one and getting the other exiled was an excellent way to clear the deck.

But I hadn’t a clue how we would investigate them. Definitely didn’t know how to broach that subject with him.

Oh, and by the way, which of your two younger brothers and three younger sisters do you think is most likely to want you and Orian dead?

Yeah, not a conversation I wanted to have with him.

With a groan, I grabbed a fresh piece of paper and created a different list. I could remember only fourteen names, but that was more than enough. Six of them were crossed out immediately, though I hesitated over Adeline’s. Was it too late for him to fall for the thief? Now that they were traveling on the ferry to Ulmenor, there was a chance for them to get to know each other in a quieter setting. We were back to forced proximity. Nylian had said he was bi. That meant women and men.

Cursing myself and the stupid book, I tossed the quill aside, ignoring the ink splatter across the middle of the page, and slumped low in my chair. Was this my fault? Had I misread the character?

Nylian was supposed to be sex on wheels. Women should be fainting at the sight of him and throwing themselves at him left and right.

Yes, he was sex on wheels. The man was fucking hot. His features were sharp and alluring. That golden hair left you wanting to touch it. When we walked down the street, women everywhere stopped and turned to watch him stroll by.

Fuck, men stopped to gawk at him.

So, it wasn’t a sex appeal thing.

But he wasn’t very flirty.

Yes, he flirted with me, but he didn’t mean that. He flirted with me to annoy me. That wasn’t about attraction or sex.

However, maybe I was the problem. My presence was screwing with the timing of the book. Sitting up, I glanced over the list of names I’d marked off. Half of those he’d never met because I’d forced him to skip entire chunks of the original story. I didn’t understand why he and Adeline hadn’t hit it off, though.

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