Page 45 of Brutal Fae King
“No. I do what Ihave to,” I growl. “It’s just that no one sees it.”
Then, an idea hits me. I smile slowly at her.
“You want to see what it takes? Why I “run rampant” like I do?” I challenge her. “You come join me on my tasks for a day. You’ll see.”
She snorts, but I can see the glimmer in her eye—she sees the challenge, and it intrigues her. I can use this.
“What say you?” I ask.
“Fine,” she says. “I’ll join you for the day. Let’s see what you do.”
Perfect.
“Very well. You’d better sleep early tonight, then,” I chuckle. “Early on the morrow, we start with sword training.”
She frowns at me, but I keep my expression still.
I need to know how much of a threat she may be. I know she has little to no control over her magic, but how can she fight? Once I have a read on her capabilities, I’ll have a better idea of what to expect from her. Then, when Bruamin comes back with his report, I’d be able to fully know what she can and can’t do.
“I’ve never held a sword in my life!” she insists.
She could be lying. I’d only know once she has a blade in her hand; even if she’s pretending to be an amateur, just the way she’d hold it alone would be an indicator. There will be subtle signs she’s not able to hide.
So, I keep smiling.
“You want to know what I do in a day? Then, you’ll join me, whether you’ve held a sword or not,” I say.
She grumbles again but tosses her glossy hair.
“Fine,” she says again.
I nod at her, still smiling.
“Let us get to dinner, then,” I say. “Wife.”
She growls for a moment and then snaps. “I know you know my name.”
I laugh, then repeat myself. “Let us get to dinner, then,” I say. “Ebelor.”
“Queen Ebelor,” she grunts.
“Myqueen,” I press.
Ebelor groans a touch, but there’s a touch of a smile on the corner of her lips.
Strangely, a little of the tightness in my stomach eases when I see the smile. It takes off the edge of the hollowness in my heart.
Seeing her smile… I feel… a bit better?
How odd.
I frown a little bit myself, forcing myself to look away.
Why? What’s happening to me?
We keep walking toward the dining room. She doesn’t say anything to me, and I dare to steal another glance at her. She’s smiling fully, but she’s in her own thoughts now.
I don’t say anything to her; I don’t want that smile to disappear, and the fact is, if I speak to her, it probably will.
