Page 67 of A Kingdom of Destruction

He bobbed his head. “I am. Not that I haven't enjoyed our time out here.”

She went breathless when he yanked her toward him, catching her in his arms, dwarfed by his much larger frame.

“I liked it very much.”

“It doesn’t turn you off?” She bit down on her lip and searched his face. “That I killed one of your men.”

His brows furrowed together as he said, “You’ve killed many of my men.”

It wasn’t an answer. The question had been burning a hole inside of her since their arrival. For three days, Cillian had acted as though nothing were wrong, which felt like a blessing.

Now it needled at her. She needed them to come to an understanding.

“I mean to say, you didn’t act maliciously, Aven.” His fingertips were light on their movement from her waist to her back, all along her spine, and where they finally came to rest on the swell of her hips. There was nothing unduly sexual about the movement, but she felt it between her legs regardless.

Although she tamped down on her blush, in the end, Cillian saw it.

“You killed a man in self-defense. I can’t speak to the past, only now.”

“And the use of your runes?”

“My runes? I didn’t realize I owned them.” He chuckled, and although he tried to keep his tone level, he failed. “Now let’s be on our way. It’s about time for us to get back.”

She hoped his father had come to the same conclusion after three days but doubted it.

The sky overhead remained free of clouds, the land green and fertile. Several small boats sailed down the river occasionally toward overused fishing grounds, Cillian explained the first day; most of the ships docked on the outskirts of the city.

The palace was only a day’s ride from it, but most of their trade took place there.

Aven desperately wanted to see the city for herself, to feel surrounded by the crowds doing their business, living their lives. And perhaps to see for herself what impacts the war had made there. Outside of the blighted trees in the forest, she’d seen nothing amiss in the palace itself.

“I know, it seems like the palace is isolated.” Cillian sawed the reins to get his stallion to head in the right direction. The horse flared red nostrils, its eyes wide. “The city is quite the lure. We’ll go there one day.”

“You promise?” Aven caught herself. She didn’t want to make plans for the future.

She wanted out.

Those two were mutually exclusive things.

Cillian’s smile went roguish, and despite his youthful face, it was the expression that showed a hint of childlike innocence, like the kid he used to be who put peanut butter on his tutor’s chair. “Absolutely.”

They took off without prompting, and their horses fell into an easy lope beside each other. How many waiting ears were hiding in the land, ready to broadcast their conversations and movements back to the Fae King waiting for them in the palace?

The smallest mistake and he’d make good on his threat to kill her.

She should watch her back, her front, and her sides. Watch every word out of her mouth. But being alone with Cillian for three days had softened her.

And he knew about the other fae she’d killed on the battlefield.

Once again, she wondered, what had made this one death mean more than any of the others? Why hadn’t they killed her right away? Why did King Donal want her to marry one of his sons?

“Will you show me?” Cillian asked once they slowed their pace.

Breathless and excited, Aven brought the Appaloosa to a slow trot, and finally down to a walk. “Show you what?”

“The runes you used that were so blasphemous a man had to die.”

She turned to him. He wanted to talk about this now? Out in the open. Her skin twitched and squirmed. “You’re mocking me. And you’ve waited to do it. Why?”

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