Page 46 of The Rook

She rolled her neck and exited the bathing chamber. Someone whistled, and she gestured rudely, before disappearing behind her dressing screen. Tempest eyed the limited dresses she had and then her leather breeches. Her upper lip curled. If the king wanted her to come immediately, he’d get her as she came. She wasn’t going to dress up for him. Quickly, she gathered her clothing along with some toiletries for her moontime and stalked back into the bathing chamber.

Wet skin and leather were a bloody nightmare. Dressing took much longer than normal. She yanked the brush through her wet hair and plaited it, before moving back into the barracks. Maxim lounged on his bed next to her.

“I sent for some food.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, dropping onto her bed. Tempest tugged on some socks. “I’ll tuck in when I get back.”

“Get back?” he asked.

“I’ve been summoned.”

“I see.” Maxim eyed her up and down. “You’re wearing that?”

“What’s wrong with this? It’s my nicest outfit.”

“It’s not very courtly.”

“Well, he demanded me to come now so this is what he gets.” She snatched a bottle of vanilla oil from the shelf next to her bed and dabbed it on her wrists and at the base of her throat. “Does that make you happy?”

“Lower your voice,” Dima admonished, moving to the end of her bed. He crossed his arms and stared her down. “You need to be careful.”

He had no idea. She smiled grimly. “Believe me, I am.”

“Tell us what has happened over the last few weeks, lass,” Maxim said. “We know that you’ve been sent on missions for the king, but that’s the extent of it.”

“Ask Madrid.” She wouldn’t breathe a word of any of it. Plus, there was a chance that her uncles were part of the mimkia ring. Winter’s bite, she hated doubting them. Tempest tied her wrist sheaths on.

“We have. He’s said nothing,” Dima bit out. “You shouldn’t be out there on your own. You may have won your trials, but you’re still a novice. Dealing with traitors to the realm is very different than training in the ring.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“We’re not trying to antagonize you, lass,” Maxim said.

“I have faced nothing I could not handle,” she interrupted, trying her best to make the smile on her face somewhat genuine. She strapped her last dagger into place at her hip. “And on the subject of the king… I will be late, if I don’t leave now. And you and I both know it’s unwise to keep the king waiting.” She shoved her feet into her boots. “I’ll be back soon.”

Tempest squeezed Dima’s arm once as she passed him, before moving to the door and tossing her cloak over her shoulders. She pulled open the door and tugged up the hood of her cloak, her wet hair chilly against her skin.

To the lion’s den we go.

Reaching the king’s chambers happened far too quickly. What disturbed her the most was that she hadn’t seen another living soul. Usually, a servant escorted her, but not this time. Something wasn’t right. Her heart picked up speed, thumping against her chest. She stared at the heavy wooden doors that served as the entrance to the king’s chambers and took a few seconds to steady her breathing. Destin was only a man. She was a trained assassin. If he tried anything, she’d kill him. Plain and simple. True, she’d have to flee for her life, but she could always live in the Fire Isles as a pirate. The weather was supposed to be delightful.

You’d never run away.

She knocked on the door, her nerves on edge. A second of silence. Two. And then—

“Come in,” a deep voice called.

Well, here goes nothing.

Gathering all the willpower she could muster, Tempest opened the door. His chamber was exactly as she remembered it. She moved into the room and managed not to flinch as the heavy doors slammed behind her. The king stood by the stained-glass window at the back of his chambers, his signature tumbler of fire whiskey dangling negligently between his fingers.

“Your Majesty,” Tempest said, bowing politely, her stomach twisting. “It has been a while.”

She straightened and locked eyes with Destin. Wicked hell, he was handsome for a psychopath.

“Don’t just stand by the door.” He crooked a finger at her. “It has indeed been a while,” he said, his tone playful and yet edgy.Not a good combination. “Too long. I have missed your radiant presence around the palace, Tempest.”

Tempest had the sense to look abashed. A small smile flittered across her face. “You flatter me, King Destin.”

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