Page 75 of The Throne Seeker
She withdrew from Grant, dropping his hand and whipping around to find Tristan.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, his voice painfully cold. So unlike him.
Grant’s grin resembled that of a Sphinx. “Actually, yes. I was just telling Rose how talented she is. She has so many talents, wouldn’t you say? Talents most women don’t acquire…” He placed his hand strategically on the hilt of his sword.
Tristan’s agitated gaze darkened—if it was even possible. “It’s you,” he seethed, his eyes narrowing with pure hatred. “Of course it’s you.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Grant said, knowing Tristan had no proof of what he insinuated.
Tristan went to pull out his blade.
“Tristan, don’t.” Rose took five quick steps, swiftly putting her hand on his to keep his sword in its scabbard. “You’ll be thrown out of the succession.”
“I don’t care,” Tristan spat.
“Tristan.” Rose snatched his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t.”
At last, Tristan looked at her. His eyes softened—but only minutely.
She let go of his face but kept her hand on his as she faced Grant. “You can go, Grant.”
“Are you sure?” Grant asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair.
“She’s sure.” Tristan’s hand tightened on his hilt.
Grant’s gloating arrogance reappeared. “Well, I’m not so sure. Not to be rude, cousin, but you don’t look well. I’m not sure you’re in the right…mindsetfor this next challenge.” His smile came and left, falling into an uncharacteristic line. “But I guess that’s good news for me.”
Tristan went to draw his sword again, but she held his hand down firm.
“I’ll be fine. Please leave,” she said, glaring a final warning at Grant.
To her relief, Grant threw up his hands, retreating. “Alright… I’ll be in the grand hall for an hour if you need anything,” he said pointedly to her.
With that, he strutted back inside.
She didn’t let her hand off the hilt of Tristan’s sword until Grant was well out of sight.
Tristan didn’t waste a moment, rounding on her. “Where have you been all day?” His tone didn’t waver an inch in Grant’s absence.
“I went riding with Zareb,” she said, her words clipped. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me after what happened this morning.”
Tristan’s fingers combed through his hair. “You think after telling me something like that, I wouldn’t wonder where you’d gone? Is that why you were both late? Were you with Grant?” His anxiety was near tangible. She could almost feel it creeping out of him.
She attempted to move closer, but he skirted around her like a whip, going to the edge of the balcony.
He ran his hand through his hair again. “I need you to stop seeing him.”
She prepared herself for another fight. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why? Have you gotten attached?”
The jealous territorial git. “Stop it. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done foryou.”
“Bullshit. You courting Grant is for me? Alright, well, let me relinquish that notion right here, right now. I don’t want you seeing him, touching him, or even being near him. I don’t wantyou seeing anyone. I. Want. You. I don’t give a damn what my father says, what my mother says, what the high council says?—”
“Shhh!” She shushed him before someone heard. “You can’t think like this! Not now. Not with this challenge tomorrow.”
“Let them invade my mind. Let them see just how strong I am and what I can do. I’m not afraid.”
