Page 161 of Bloodguard

I choke back a sob. It’s quiet, mercifully failing to echo and alert those just beyond the stables to how damaged I am. That doesn’t mean I’ll admit defeat.

My fingers ball into a fist. To hell with anyone who opposes me.

“Where have you been?” a gruff voice demands from the front of the stables.

Ugeen. Lovely.

He does his best to stomp forward. In fine leather slippers, it’s hard for him to stomp anywhere, let alone on a soil-and-hay-covered surface. The moment he’s to me, Ugeen snags my arm and pulls me to him.

My head whips to the side when he slaps me. I right myself, shock dulling the sting from that blow. “I asked you where you’ve been!”

He slaps me again.

This time, I slap him back.

I don’t wait for him to gain his footing before I slap him again.

And again.

And again.

All the way the fuck down the hay-strewn length of the stables, I shove and slap him, until he trips over the hem of his robes and lands on his ass.

I turn and lift my chin, fluffing my hair and remembering whose daughter I am.

The guards race forward, including Tut. I keep walking. What are they going to do? Save Ugeen? Turn on their future queen?

No.

Not today.

Not ever.

I shake off the hem of my dress and smooth the skirt before climbing onto the stone steps of the castle. I didn’t care about littering the stables or the walkway with hay. I do care about making a mess along the marble floor. Someone will have to clean it up, and I can’t ask my dear subjects to do one more needless thing for me.

The guards cast their gazes down as I pass. My features no doubt reflect the downright rage Ugeen’s presence stirred. Throw in how that ball-less ass sackhitmein an attempt to put me in my supposed place? I’m in no mood to play nice.

I’m almost to Polasie’s old apartment when Soro’s voice reverberates from the main hall up to the second level where I stand. “Where is she?”

Great. Ugeen ran to daddy to tell on me.

I hear that familiar swish of air of Soro moving at his top speed. My hand is on the knob. I twist it. I throw the door open, and suddenly he stands in front of me, the jewels sewn into his hair reflecting dull tones of yellow and red from the flickering torch set into the gray-and-black stone wall.

Brynne, one of the handmaidens assigned to me, stops polishing the silver tea set and runs. Simply runs. It’s a good thing. I don’t have to worry about Soro hurting her. “Did you strike Ugeen?”

“Yes,” I say. “And I’ll do worse if that knob ever touches me again.”

He laughs when I walk past him. But it’s the laughter filled with malice that I’ve grown to fear. “Should I strike you for him? You wouldn’t hit me back so easily, would you?” I freeze when he pauses. He doesn’t just want to hurt me.

Slow, steady footsteps approach, the volume increasing subtly as he closes in. He leans his left shoulder into the door leading to the bedroom. “I could,” he says. “But hurting you won’t be enough, will it? No, it will mean more if I hurt someone else.”

His voice cuts off. When his leer drags down to my breasts and back to my face, I jerk away and ease my way into the parlor.

Soro’s tone, which used to be playful as often as it was scary, is simply scary now. He pushes away from the door and stalks forward. “You fucked that gladiator tonight, didn’t you?”

I continue to step backward, trying to play dumb, but the shock embedded in my features—that he actually made the correct assumption—gives me away.

He marches toward me, his dark eyes flashing anger and betrayal. I edge away until my lower back brushes into the buffet and several goblets fall with a clatter to the floor. “You did. You fucked him even though you’re engaged to me.”

---