Page 18 of The Curse of a Kingdom
“Nava,” he repeated, and gooseflesh awakened over her skin. The way her name sounded out of his lips was like a prayer. “Is that your given name or your family name?”
“Given name.”
His eyes danced with curiosity; however, his expression was null of further emotion. “The king demands you wear this bracelet while you’re in his kingdom.” He held her gaze, and Nava knew she had no choice.
As he fiddled with the jewelry, she could tell he wasn’t happy to give her this; it had not been his decision. “Fine,” she said in between her teeth, lifting her arm toward Arkimedes to allow him to put the bracelet on.
He appeared to debate whether or not he wanted to do so. However, she felt the burning of something else through their bond, maybe desire. It was hard to tell when their connection was somehow fractured. It took but a second for the cool metal to touch her. The skin beneath the bracelet sizzled, but the soft caress of his fingertips warmed the ache left behind by the sting of magic.
Arkimedes didn’t blink, look away, or move a muscle. His only reaction was the tightening of his jaw and the longing pushing through the bond.
“Sir, would you be requesting adjacent rooms for your guests?”
Adjacent—a room that shared a door between Devon’s and her accommodations. Because they were supposed to be engaged. Something crawled in her spine at her horror, like fire-bending ants.
But then, upon further inspection, it might be the only way they could plan how to get out of here because she was running out of ideas. Even bad ones weren’t coming to her.
Arkimedes’s jaw was set at a sharp angle when he turned to Callisto. His aura darkened around him, and the air sizzled with energy and the scent of cayenne. “No. She will stay on the west side of the wing.”
Devon eyed Arkimedes with an entertained expression, clearly enjoying their torment too much for his own good. “Oh, worry not, my brother. You don’t have to protect her virtue. That ship has long sailed.”
“Hey!” Her voice echoed in the hallway. “It’s not like he’s making it sound at all,” she huffed but let her words die down, knowing Callisto still was around and eyeing Nava like she was below dirt level. Judgy wench.
Devon’s eyes danced. “Sorry, that was uncouth of me. I merely wanted my brother to allow us privacy, my dear.”
Arkimedes cleared his throat loudly, the vein on his forehead becoming more apparent. “We don’t have rooms next to one another.”
Callisto opened her mouth, her delicate eyebrows wrinkling in confusion, but closed her lips as soon as Arkimedes’s eyes landed on her. Nava didn't even need to feel his emotions to know he was lying.
“Please set the rooms, Callie. I will take Devon to the gold room and Nava to the green.”
“Your Highness.” She dipped down before she walked ahead of them, shaking her head.
Devon’s eyes chased down the retreating shape of the woman whom Nava assumed was a maid. Her narrow frame was almost swallowed by the large hallways. “It’s a shame I can’t be closer to you, cat, really.” He turned to her, and his straight teeth showed in a wicked smile. “No way to protect you if an assassin were to try to kill you.”
Nava would have retorted that she didn’t need his protection. But in this castle surrounded by enemies, she wasn’t sure that was true.
CHAPTERSEVEN
NAVA
Callisto stood poised in front of what Nava assumed was the gold room, studying their approach with wide blue eyes. The imposing door reminded her of the one she’d seen before in the throne room, except this one was all bright yellow metal.
Devon whistled as he peeked inside, and his eyes cut to Nava with a smile. “This is an improvement to my previous arrangements from earlier in the day.”
“Your apartment?” Arkimedes paused his movements, studying Devon as if looking at him for the first time. From the top of his greasy matted hair, the dark circles under his eyes, and the black-and-white prisoner outfit he wore.
If he found it odd, and the confusion pushing through the bond told her he did, Arkimedes didn't mention one single thing about it.
Devon blinked a few times before regaining his usual stance. “I haven’t been in the city for quite some time.”
Arkimedes didn’t remember the island; he thought Devon had come straight from the Iron City. Eleven years of memories were gone.
“Where have you been?”
“Searching for you.” Devon paused and sauntered into the room, peering in with tense shoulders. “You left and said little.”
The Crow turned and met her gaze, and they both stared at each other in silence, understanding passing between them. This was not a lie. He had been searching for Arkimedes a year ago when he entered her shop that fateful afternoon.
