Page 75 of Warlord's Plaything

Like she’s been pacing. Restless.

Like she’s still feeling the aftermath of what I did to that noble.

Of what we almost did on that balcony.

"What does the letter say?"she asks, crossing her arms.

I don’t answer right away.

Instead, I let my gaze drag over her, slow, deliberate, letting the silence stretch.

I want to see it.

That flicker in her eyes.

That awareness.

That fucking hunger she refuses to name.

"The Council is moving against me."

Her brows knit together, just slightly."Because of me?"

I smirk."You think too highly of yourself, little warrior."

She scowls, bristling like an untamed thing.

But I see the moment of hesitation, the flash of something deeper beneath the fire.

A question she doesn’t want to ask.

A fear she doesn’t want to name.

That maybe sheisthe reason.

That maybe, without realizing it, she’s already become the crack in my armor.

"So?"she presses, sharpening the edge in her voice.

"So,"I echo, stepping closer, crowding into her space just enough to make her breath hitch."They want me to answer for my actions."

"And what actions would those be?"

"Keeping you alive."

She stills.

For just a moment.

I stare at the way her throat moves, the way her fingers twitch like she wants to reach for something?—

A blade. A weapon. A way out.

But there’s no way out of this.

Not for her.

Not for me.

---