Page 39 of A Bond in Blood

“King Ulrich,” I stated, pulling my arm away, “I am the princess of the Kingdom of Nóatún. I will walk into the room with the confidence my people would expect of me.”

Ulrich stepped back, his face deadpan. His hand rose and I held back my flinch, expecting some kind of pain for my words. I blinked, finding his hand pointing to the table instead.

“You’re excused,” he said, keeping his eyes on me.

“Yes, your grace,” Olen muttered.

I walked around the king, holding my gaze on the table. Ignoring the black ink climbing up the forearm pointing the way.

A black horned creature appeared from the shadows and pulled my chair out as I approached. I nodded my appreciation, keeping my words to myself. To my surprise, the creature offered a tilted bow of respect before turning on its heel and leaving the room.

The door closed behind it and I steadied my gaze, watching Ulrich sink into the chair across from me.

His shoulder length, blond hair was half pulled up into a bun barely visible at the crown of his head. His beard, still as perfectly groomed as I’d previously seen it, masked the lower half of his face while his black mask covered the upper half. Behind the mask, his emerald green eyes stared back at me and an irritating smile crept across his lips.

“Admiring me, Brenna?” he asked.

I scowled, laying my hands on my lap.

“Can’t admire any man who hides himself behind a mask and facial hair.”

His brow rose barely above his mask, but his smile didn’t falter.

“How’s your back?”

“You’re demented,” I snorted unintentionally. “What would make you believe I’d answer that question?”

Ulrich leaned back in his seat; the motion caused his dipped neckline to strain against his muscle while his arms crossed over his chest. The dark ink on his skin poked through, but I avoided staring.

“Olen tells me you werebehavingthe last several days.”

I mimicked his movement, leaning back with as much ease and lack of emotion. My arms crossed over my own chest.

“Hard to do anything when your healer had me inhibited by tonics for the majority of that time,” I replied.

Ulrich’s grin widened.

We were playing a game. Two royals, daring each other silently. Testing to see who would break their trained composure first.

Who would throw the first blow.

My shoulders tightened when the door opened once more, but I refused to glance at who joined us. Ulrich kept his eyes on me, holding himself as still as I was.

“Our meal is here,” he said calmly before pulling his gaze away.

I held myself. I didn’t care to see what meal he’d decided to feed me. I’d decided to best this king at his game. And as far as I was concerned, I was winning.

Platters clattered on the table before me and the scent of rich meats filtered throughout the room. The attendant creatures, beings I hadn’t taken the time to learn the names of, lifted the lids before ducking away.

“Hungry?” Ulrich asked, reaching across to the platter closest to him.

The cracking of him breaking off the leg of whatever fowl laid on the plate turned my stomach. I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head.

His eyes gleamed in the light of the candles surrounding the room while he slowly took a bite. I grimaced while his tongue lapped at the grease falling from the meat and anguished over the painfully slow pace he chose to pull the meat away from the bone. Then, just when I didn’t think he could disgust me further, he looked me dead in the eye while he licked his fingers clean.

I lost the game instantly.

I jumped to my feet, yelling out angry, disgusted sighs.

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