Page 70 of The Throne Seeker
Her body was still frozen from the foreign softness as she said, “You’re welcome.”
Roman swallowed hard. “Not just for the tea… Thank you for saving me. I know after some of the things I said to you… you could have very well been tempted to let me die.”
She nearly laughed at the idea, though the thought hadn’t once crossed her mind. “There was a fleeting moment when I thought it could be to my advantage,” she replied with a coy smile, taking the risk of teasing him.
Roman’s amber eyes sparked with a hint of warmth, and for a moment, she thought he might smile. But that was the most she got out of him. She could read from his uncertain expression that he hadn’t gained enough confidence to trust her fully.
But perhaps it was a start.
She leaned back. “Thank you for believing me,” she whispered, holding his gaze head-on. “I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t.”
Roman’s face twitched, as if accepting the realization that he had, in fact, trusted her in a way. The expression instilled hope that she may yet have a redeeming quality in his eyes after all. “I have a hard time trusting things I don’t understand.” He swallowed hard again. “And you… you’re a glorified maze to me.”
Her heart softened, her mouth parting to give him a map until?—
“Roman!” Beth called, swinging the door open.
Her head snapped away at the same time that Roman’s did, both of them watching as Beth’s long, yellow dress swayed behind her.
Rose stood from the edge of the bed, offering Beth a warm smile. But to her dismay, Beth’s eyes glazed right over her, fixating on only Roman.
A sinking sensation settled in her heart. It appeared as though her friendship with Beth had come to an abrupt end. Ever since she’d entered the succession, her friend had barely looked in her direction.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She’d never excelled in the art of making friends—well, friends among the girls in court. In her younger years, she’d tried hard to get them to like her. Countless times, she’d tried to reach out and befriend them. Each time, it was fruitless, and it usually resulted in tears. She’d hoped that maybe—just maybe—Beth was the exception. But it seemed that, too, was a foolish notion.
“I’m so glad you’re finally looking better,” Beth said, perching on the edge of the bed as she slid her hand into Roman’s, coming in close.
Rose glanced between the two. The clear display of ownership all too obvious. She wanted to laugh. If only Beth knew how much Roman loathed her.
Roman, however, pulled his hand away from Beth’s. The withdrawal made Beth recoil with hurt eyes, but she regained her composure in a flash, sitting up straight and smoothing out her dress.
“Rose was just checking on me,” he said in a cool tone. “She saved my life.”
“Of course.” Beth recovered with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she acknowledged Rose’s presence for the first time. “It’s so lucky you happened to know the cure to such a rare poison.”
Rose recognized the suspicion in Beth’s tone. She looked her squarely in the eye. “Isn’t it?” she replied with a smile of her own. Dismissing her friend, she said to Roman, “Well, I can see you are in good hands; I’ll let you get some rest.”
He gave her a curt nod, still looking like he had more to say, but the medications had him still slightly disoriented, pinning him to his bed.
“Zareb is just outside waiting for you,” Beth called with a strained smile.
Rose left and closed the door behind her, pretending not to hear them bickering as she left. It seemed that she and Tristan weren’t the only ones to have troubles in paradise today.
When Rose saw Zareb, she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
CHAPTER 31
Initially, Zareb resisted Rose’s request to spar, knowing she was exhausted and insisting she’d been through enough in the past twenty-four hours. But with just one look from her, Zareb conceded, accepting he wouldn’t win the fight. She knew Zareb craved their sparring time just as much as she did. It was how they both released stress and frustration. In many ways, the two were much alike.
Relentless heat beat down from the sun that day, setting her shoulders on fire. The only saving grace was the west breeze blowing over the field, tasting like the salty sea itself. Above, the aspens’ leaves trickled like a gentle stream, catching the sun’s light like sparkles on the water.
“Where’s your sword?” Zareb asked when they reached the fields.
She focused on anything but his eyes. “It was taken.”
His head snapped to her, alarmed. “By who?”
“Tristan.” Her voice dripped with guilt. “When we were about to go retrieve the phoenix, I took my sword in case we had any trouble on the road, and he asked about it.”
