Page 8 of The Rook

Tempest pushed aside the pain and straightened to confront Pyre properly, who was still fussing over his outfit like a blinkin lady of court. She made no attempt to hide her distain.

“Don’t give me that look. I spent too much money on theseclothes to have a dagger ruin the stitching,” Pyre muttered, inspecting his shoulder critically for non-existent stray fibers along the seam. Both he and Tempest knew her dagger hadn’t touched him. “I need them to look perfect.”

For whom? It was the middle of the night. She shook her head. Temp didn’t want to know who he was entertaining so late or why the outfit mattered so much.

“Why am I here, Pyre?” she asked, impatience dripping from every word.

The Jester finished his inspection and reached for the dagger, pulling it from the mirror. Several shards of glass shattered to the floor. He prowled in her direction, the robe gaping the slightest bit, revealing a sliver of his burnished chest. He paused in front of her and held out the dagger, hilt first, to Tempest. She took it slowly.

Pyre dropped into a mocking bow. “You misplaced this, my lady.”

“Pyre—”

“Relax.” He sighed. “Can’t you indulge in some niceties before we get down to business?”

“Not with you, no.”Every moment she spent in his presence inspired feelings she didn’t quite know what to do with.

He cocked his head to one side, fox ears twitching as if listening for changes in Tempest’s heart rate. Unbidden, she thought of their tumultuous argument in the cabin and how it had led to his fingers trailing along her calves. She blinked. Why in the blazes was she thinking about that?

It had been a mistake. A moment of weakness.She gazed blankly at his chest. For both of them.

“Penny for your thoughts, love?”

She flinched, then arched a haughty brow, leaning back inher seat. “You could offer me Destin’s personal fortune and I still wouldn’t tell you what’s on my mind.”

Pyre’s smile slid from his face, and something predatory took its place. “Business it is, then. Do you have any updates from the war council?”

Relieved to finally be talking about something else, Tempest said, “King Destin issending his sons to act as ambassadors to the giants of Kopal.” She took a moment to recall everything she’d filed away. “Children from the capital are disappearing. He’s blaming the Dark Court.” She eyed Pyre. No expression. He remained impassive, patiently waiting in silence for Tempest to continue.Rot it, he was hard to read. She sighed and rolled her neck.“And he ordered me to infiltrate the Talagan rebels and destroy them by any means necessary. It was implied to use my feminine wiles.” She sneered the last word.

The Jester perked up at this. His lips curled into an amused grin, and she found herself resisting the urge to throw another dagger at him.

“I’m sure you didn’t like that very much.”

“How astute of you,” she grumbled.

“Did you protest?”

“Of course not,” Tempest replied, rolling her eyes. “It’s the perfect cover to work with you to unravel the entire mimkia conspiracy. And I’m no fool; to protest Destin’s commands would be a death warrant.”

She pursed her lips, thinking about the blatant touch from the king tonight. He was becoming bolder. What if Destin commanded her into his bed? Her jaw clenched. There was nothing that would entice her to do so. Even the idea of letting him run his hands over her body made Tempest break out in acold sweat. She flushed scarlet when she realized the kitsune was peering at her strangely.

She coughed. “Was there any information in particular that you were hoping I’d overhear?”

A weighty pause. “Not really. Destin sending his sons off is interesting, though. We might be able to work with that. Other than that, a few of my men were captured two days ago by the king’s guards. They’ve been sentenced to death.”

Her jaw dropped. “You should have led with that! What can I do to help? Do you want me to—I don't know—appeal for their release? Break them out? We can’t leave them to—”

“That’sexactlywhat we’re going to do. We can’t afford to break them out. It would do more harm than good for the resistance.”

Temp blinked slowly and tugged on her left ear. Surely, she was hearing things. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.”

She swallowed. How could he so callously allow his friends and allies to die when he could very well save them? Her stomach turned.

You’re not dealing with Pyre. He’s the Jester now. Don’t forget that for one second.

And then, as if they hadn’t just been discussing the imminent and potentially preventable deaths of his comrades, the mercurial kitsune returned to his fractured mirror and smoothed down the fabric of his robe. He fussed with the collar and then untied the sash at his waist, exposing his chiseled chest and abdomen. Heat filled her cheeks. Why was she attracted to this criminal?

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