Page 42 of The Ballad of a Bard

“Seems… wrong.” Crimson didn’t like the way he grinned at her. “But then again, insects are along the same opinion as snakes for me.”

Altivar let out a judgemental noise, fixing his robe back over his lean shoulder. “How did you and Westley start this whole….relationship?” He inquired with an expression that told her itwasn’t for informal conversations, so much as the fact that this was an interrogation.

Crimson cleared her throat, reciting the lines she had been fed. “At the Pits. He’s the owner of the apartment that my brother and I live in. I didn’t know it until that night, but we got to talking and realised that we held much in common.”

This was the story West asked her to tell, the one that he felt was the most believable for their short period of time to sell it all.

“I see.” He murmured, as if healmostbought it. “It all happened extremely fast. Any explanation for that? Because I’ve neveronceseen West take a liking to anyone, let alone in a span of days.”

“He’s very attractive. I suppose when he caught me, something sparked between us. Touch is a very important part of finding a connection, after all.”

Not that she would ever forget the way his hands brushed against her. But it wasn’t the first encounter after the tray spilled that ran through her mind. It was the one after, when he’d cornered her in the bathing chamber and pressed against her.

The way her skin flushed and her body heated to an unreasonable degree. The way his breath caressed her neck and made her feel as though something else was about to occur.

“I suppose so.” He came closer to her and dangled his hand along her neck, tracing her collarbones. “I quite like touching, myself.”

She swallowed, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Something caught her eye in the corner of her room and she took the bait, using it as a way to wiggle out of his touch. She jumped off of the couch and made for it.

“What isthat?” Crimson gasped as she knelt before a vial full of ruby liquid. It almost shimmered as she shifted her head to get a better look at it.

Altivar came over to see what she found so interesting. “That? It’s Heartache’s blood.”

Her stomach churned. “His blood?”

“Mhm hmm.” He hummed. “It’s said to hold immense power. A single drop of it into someone’s drink can make them fall madly in love for the entire evening with the first person they lay their eyes on. Three drops, and it can break the truest of love. But two, two is the sweet spot.”

“What would two drops do?” Crimson couldn’t imagine someone getting their hands on something as powerful as it.

His eyebrows bent forward, his white teeth flashing in delight. “Two drops of Heartache’s blood into your wine, drunk to the very last bit, can make you lust after the person you most desire. Quite strongly too.”

“I see.” She gulped, falling away from the vial.

He seemed to gauge her reaction. “Or so it’s said. I’ve never seen the potion in action.”

“That’s probably a good thing.” Crimson stood up and fixed her copper skirt. “In the wrong hands, that could be dangerous.”

He flipped his palm over, as if he were looking at every marking within his flesh. “Would you consider my hands to be dangerous?”

She studied him from head to toe. He almost seemed to enjoy her intrusive gaze, bask in it even like a striped tiger in the sun. “I don’t know you well enough to make that call.”

“We must amend that. You’re Captain Westley Saint’sloverafter all. And finding how often the dutiful male is by my side, night and day, it only seems fair that you are as well.” He fell back into the rich red couch, draping one arm across the back of it.

“He wouldn’t like that.”

“Wouldn’t like what, you by my side all day? Or getting to know one another on a more intimate level?”

“Either. Both.” She replied without hesitation.

“Why ever not?” The Prince pretended to pout, pulling his lip into a downward position and rapidly blinking his long lashes in the effect to cause tears. The painted kohl around his eyes seemed to smear with the action.

Crimson struggled to explain without lying to him. “West is… protective. Not in a bad way, just in a way that means he doesn’t like people messing about his personal life. I think it’s best to respect that.”

“You seem to know him far better than most ever have or ever will. Myself, included.” Altivar said with a curious mingle to his glossy voice. “Why is that? Has the private captain finally let someone see into the furthest parts of himself? Has he unwound from his uncaring and cold attitude towards life?”

The wordscoldanduncaringdid not suit West at all. They seemed to fit the male in front of her far better, though. He could play coy all he wanted, act the victim, but she was beginning to see why West didn’t particularly like his wry charge. He was obnoxious, assuming, and annoying.

And those were just the words off the top of her head.

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