Page 9 of The Cursed Crown

Dance of Snakes

“Let us make haste. We’ve wasted enough time here.” Rydekar turned his back to her, silently conveying just how little he thought of her, like she had moments ago.

They’d agreed to an alliance of sorts, but they were far from friendly, and he had no reason to trust her. From her, the slight had been minor, but men like him didn’t present their back to a potential enemy, unless they considered them entirely useless.

Theaudacity. He made her itch to reach for the dagger strapped to her ankle and throw it right between his shoulder blades. If Rissa stayed her hand, it had more to do with the pale warrior’s cold eyes set on her than with her inclination.

The king reached his dark horse, climbed it deftly, and stared pointedly at her. “Any timenow would be good.”

Ignoring the grating impatience radiating off Rydekar, Rissa crossed the clearing, heading for her tree.

His highhandedness made it absolutely essential for her to take twice as much time as she otherwise would have.

“Tough. You will wait for me.” He hadn’t crossed onto seelie land and hunted her down in person to leave her behind. “I have personal effects to retrieve.”

And she needed to get changed, badly. She was familiar enough with the ways of the courts to know her attire would be inappropriate, even for a lowly chambermaid.

He snorted, no doubt questioning what sorts of things kept in a treehouse could be worth the bother.

Many might have surprised him. Rissa’s space was littered with priceless—and worthless—jewels, spelled stones, dresses of the finest silk, and goblets of carved gold.

While she enjoyed the simplicity of life in the woods, she still liked pretty things to look at. She wouldn’t have wanted to leave her favorite baubles behind, in the Court of Sunlight, when she had no intention of returning to her former home anytime soon.

Rissa deftly climbed her beech tree, her feet and hands grabbing onto the familiar nooks and crannies of its branches and trunk, till she reached the cluster of boughs where she’d built her house.

It was rather simple. A floor made of smooth planks, a curtain of knotted vines, and a roof of polished ash. More spacious than one would have thought, the circular room was spelled to stay warm and dry in the winter, and to keep strangers out when she wasn’t here. Not the best at domestic enchantments, Rissa had spent weeks working out the kinks of that trick. She’d built the small, carved bed, and painstakingly filled the mattress with wolf fur, earning a bite or two in the process.

An old gray and silver tapestry served as a rug, while another hung on the wall closest to her bed, to keep the sunlight out. She often slept during the day.

Trinkets covered every surface, her favorite ones displayed on makeshift tables and cabinets. She’d built almost everything here, over the course of the last century. Even back when she officially lived at court, she used to retreat to the woods and come here whenever she could.

The treehouse was far from a palace, but it was all hers. Her sanctuary. It smelled of apple, pine, lily of the valley, and home.

Rissa shed the dusty greenish dress she wore most days, and moved to the basin filled with fresh rainwater to freshen up. She stilled and put the soft cleaning cloth back on the lip of the basin. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a voyeur.”

After today, Rissa suspected she would be able to sense Rydekar’s distinctive presence anywhere. Not only because of his unique scent—white-hot crackling embers, along with a purely masculine tone of leather, mud, and cold spices. No, she recognized him because, while there was one person, he felt like an entire army stood in his shadow. Power. It radiated off him. Rydekar wore it as a second skin.

“What would you have pegged me as?” His voice felt like a caress along her bare skin. She hated herself for reacting to it.

“I’m getting changed.” Point for stating the obvious… “If I wanted you here, I would have invited you.”

“Let’s not pretend you have any clue what you want, Rissa dear.”

Smug bastard.

She fixed her narrowed eyes on him. To her annoyance, he’d invaded her space like he belonged there, sitting on her narrow, unmade bed. He looked entirely out of place, his frame so large it made it look like a child’s cot.

Suddenly aware of her near nakedness, and of his bright violet eyes set on her, she had to resist the impulse to hide under her washcloth.

Ridiculous. She’d ended up dancing naked at several celebrations and had been indifferent to the eyes of the court. Everyone was uninhibited and in various states of undress by midnight on solstices.

Tonight wasn’t a solstice, and she wasn’t nearly drunk enough to withstand the heat and scrutiny of his attention.

Free of her dress, she stood in a tunic so thin it did nothing to conceal her shape. Its back dipped low enough to hint at the curve of her ass. Underneath, weapons adorned her—a dagger at the right ankle, a knife around the left thigh, and an assortment of potions and explosives in flasks and pouches belted at her hips. She itched to throw all of them at his placid, infuriating face.

Rydekar looked at her without even attempting to disguise his inspection, as though he had every right to feast his eyes on her curves, yet he did so with a nonchalance and indifference that got under her skin more than anything he’d said and done until now.

Rissa felt her skin prickle. Glancing down, she noticed vines curling around her wrists, ready to defend her. Saving the insults she wanted to throw at Rydekar for later, she focused on her arms, sending soothing vibes until the vines stopped gathering at her palm, and faded back under her skin.

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