Page 84 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

She lets out a soft huff of amusement and falls into step beside me as I lead her down the corridor, away from the arena.

"You don’t have patience for any conversation," she says dryly. "Which is why it’s fortunate that I’m the one here first instead of the others."

The others.

The noble daughters.

The women I’m expected to choose from.

I roll my shoulders, but the tension remains knotted deep between them.

"How many are coming?" I ask.

"Four more," she says, keeping her gaze on me. "But we both know the others are here just to fill the numbers."

I glance at her, but she’s already watching me, reading me too easily.

We have known each other since childhood, long before my name carried weight, before my title made me a bargaining chip in the naga courts.

If there is one person in this realm who understands me, who has always understood me, it is her.

She is the only one who has ever spoken of my curse without fear.

Without cruelty.

Without using it against me.

I slow my steps, bracing myself. "Just say what you came to say."

She exhales through her nose, shaking her head. "I came because it was expected of me. The lords think we’re the best match. They believe I should bear your heirs."

Her voice is calm, measured.

It does not wound the way it should.

It does not spark anger.

Because she is not here to claim me.

She is here because they sent her.

I stop walking.

She halts beside me, lifting a brow. "You don’t need to look so alarmed, Xirath. I have no intention of mating with you."

Some of the tension eases from my chest.

She laughs softly. "Is that relief?"

I narrow my eyes. "You think I enjoy the idea of my fate being decided by a council of self-important lords?"

"I think you enjoy defying them too much to ever let them win," she counters smoothly.

She’s right.

But this time, they have leverage.

They are forcing my hand, and I have no way out of it.

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