Page 79 of The Throne Seeker
The wind stole her heavy breaths as she stared at him, still trying to process what had just happened until she remembered where she was—and who was watching.
Her eyes sprang to Tristan, who was nowhere to be found. To make matters worse, the queen and Harriet had seen the kiss, too. Harriet’s eyes widened, hurt and betrayed, while the queen’s narrowed. Roman’s expression went straight back to malice the longer he stared. Whatever faith she’d gained had just been lost.
She swiveled back to Grant, pushing him, but the shove barely made his shoulder move. “You snake. You manipulated this whole thing to mess with him.”
Grant wasn’t the least bit sorry. “I haven’t done anything to hinder his chances. His own mind will do that.”
She opened her mouth, ready to round on him?—
With a creak, the hut’s doors swung open, and Emmett stumbled out, his face ghostly pale with sweat streaming down his cheeks. He had been sick to his stomach, the evidence of it clinging to his cloak. The confidence he’d had all but vanished, dissipating along with the smoke from the chimney. His mother and Beth supported his arms as he wobbled. His father trailed after them, his frown creased into harsh lines.
That had been fast.
Too fast.
The king exited the hut, his expression blank as he called for the next candidate. “Dawnton!”
Dawnton was present in a flash, though his usual pompous demeanor was nowhere in sight. His legs trembled like a newborn calf as the dark hut swallowed him. Following him were his two younger brothers and their parents, all hesitant to step into the lion’s den. With that, the door closed again.
Rose spun on her heels, intending to go find Tristan.
Grant tried to tame her fire. “Rose?—”
“Don’t.”
At her viperous glare, Grant surrendered, letting her go.
Zareb read her fury, leaving her alone. But he’d make sure he could see her still, even if she wasn’t aware of where he was.
In the distance, she spotted Tristan’s figure near the cliff’s edge. Though he saw her coming, he didn’t bother to acknowledge her, keeping his eyes on the horizon.
She stopped within a few feet of him. “I didn’t know he was going to do that,” she said lamely.
“I did,” Tristan replied in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper.
She would’ve preferred for him to yell at her.
He was angry, that was certain, but more than that, he looked broken. And she’d just added another large crack to his fragile frame.
“I thought we were in this together,” Tristan said, still in a soft whisper.
She bit the inside of her cheek in regret. “We are.”
“Today, of all days.”
“I know.”
“Why are you torturing me?” he asked. “Last night and now this? Is it because I took your sword? Are you still so angry with me?”
“No—yes—but I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t stop it either.”
“If you only knew?—”
“Isn’t that the phrase of the century—if only I knew.” He paused, scoffing. “But how could I, when you tell menothing?I am not a simpleton, Rose. You forget I’ve known you practically your whole life.”
“Iwantto tell you everything.”
