Page 33 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

I gritted my teeth as I made my way to the table, and sat down gingerly in a wooden chair with my back to the bar, letting the princes slide onto the bench across from me facing the room. As long as I kept my back to the room and my voice low, no one would realize I was speaking.

“Was that necessary?” I muttered under my breath.

Bael and Scion glanced at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Very necessary, little monster,” Bael said, speaking for both of them.

“Stop that,” I said, acidly.

“Stop what?” Bael asked.

“You’re always leaving me out of conversations, as if you need to take care of me at every turn.”

Scion made a derisive noise low in his throat. “We do.”

Bael rubbed the back of his neck, looking only slightly more apologetic. “You do find a truly baffling number of ways to injure yourself, little monster.”

I scoffed, but could not answer as at that moment, the barkeep appeared behind me carrying a plate of food. He placed it on the table and grinned. “Let me know if you’d like company.”

“Er, right. Thank you.” I pursed my lips as he walked away.

“See?” Scion muttered. “If you were truly alone, then that man?—”

“Would what?” I interrupted. “Flirt with me? You’re ridiculous.”

Scion’s gaze burned, and he shot another dirty look at the bartender, but said nothing. Perhaps we’d ventured slightly too close to the topic of what might be between us. Or, perhaps he simply didn’t care to keep arguing. I’d never truly know.

Bael put a hand flat on the table, and leaned forward. “Eat, little monster, while it’s still hot.”

I picked up my fork, and used the edge to saw at my chicken. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get something for you two. It would have looked strange to order three plates.”

Bael waved me off. “We’re fine.”

I looked guiltily at the chicken and vegetables on my plate. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Of course,” Scion replied. “But the difference is we can’t starve to death.”

“We have more important things to discuss, anyway,” Bael added. “Clearly, we were wrong. Ambrose isn’t going to wait until closer to the third hunt to come after you.”

I took a bite of chicken and chewed slowly, thinking. “Maybe he doesn’t want to be king.”

“Impossible,” Scion spat. “He led a fucking raid on the kingdom and took the crown, and more importantly, you don’t know him.”

“Do you?” I asked, my curiosity taking over. “Do you really know him either? Hasn’t it been decades since you two spent any time together?”

Scion clenched his jaw. “Yes, but believe me, I know my own brother. Ambrose wants to be king. He was literally born for it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Fine, then what is he trying to do?”

“I don’t know, little monster,” Bael said. “But I think we should assume he’ll keep trying whatever it is. Perhaps we should reconsider if Aftermath is the safest option, right now.”

I shook my head vigorously, forgetting entirely to be inconspicuous. “No. I refuse to join the hunts again, if that’s what you’re thinking. Or go to Overcast.”

“But if you’re constantly under attack?—”

“Then I would be under attack anywhere,” I said fiercely. “Rather than hiding, the two of you might try teaching me to defend myself.”

“We can if you like,” Bael said with a sideways grin. “But as I recall, we’ve tried that before.”

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