Page 41 of The Curse of Golden Blood
She was silent for a long moment, her golden eyes studying my face. I could see the calculation there, the careful weighing of words.
"I don't trust any fae," she said finally, her voice steady but cold. "Your kind takes what they want, when they want it. Why should you be different?"
"Because I don't need to force myself on anyone," I answered, trying not to let irritation bleed into my tone. "There are enough fawning women more than willing to fall into my bed."
"Oh, of course," she scoffed, dramatically crossing her arms over her chest. "The great and powerful Warlord. The halls of the Thunder Court are filled with tales of your conquests."
I was finding it exceedingly difficult not to laugh. So I turned away, crossing the room.
The room was spacious, dark. Bookshelves lined the walls, their surfaces coated in dust. There was a bed in the far corner, its frame blackwood, polished to a shine. Its sheets were red silk, its pillows pure cotton, stuffed with goose feathers.
The windows were large, paneled glass, framed by heavy, black velvet curtains. A fire burned brightly in the hearth, sending shadows dancing around the room. The air was cold, but not uncomfortably so.
I liked this place. I liked the solitude. The isolation. It helped me focus, helped me forget the restlessness that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface.
It also helped when I was trying not to think.
I heard her move behind me.
"Are you sure you're not planning to murder me and then hang me in the dungeons as a trophy?"
I couldn't help but smile at that. I glanced over my shoulder at her. "No, Miralyte. You're not the trophy type."
Her eyes narrowed. "How very kind of you."
I poured a glass of water, holding it out to her. She hesitated. After a moment, she took it, though her hand shook slightly. I noticed that her knuckles had gone pale, her face drained of color. I'd known this girl for less than a week, and already I could recognize the little tells, the cracks in her perfect facade.
I gave her a wry smile. "Don't tell me you're afraid of me."
"I'm not."
"Good."
I watched her as she sipped her drink, her movements stiff. She looked like a cat ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Her eyes darted around the room, never lingering for long. I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, her sharpmind assessing every detail, trying to find a way out, a weakness, a vulnerability.
"Will I get to leave during the day?" she asked suddenly, her tone sharp. "Or am I to stay in this cage all hours of the day?"
"You may go anywhere within the castle grounds. As long as you have an escort."
"An escort."
"Yes. And before you ask, it won't be me. I have more important matters to attend to."
Her mouth curled. "Like what?"
"Duties a little dove has no business interfering with."
"Oh, right. Your precious duties. Tell me, what is the duty of the one who’s supposed to train me? Oh wait, you’ve given up on that because I’m a guinea pig now."
I bit back a grin. She was proving to be more entertaining than I'd thought. I shrugged, unable to suppress the twitch of my mouth. "One of those duties is to keep an eye on you, Vessel. And I intend to do just that."
She set down the goblet of water. "For how long?"
"Until this ends."
Her eyes narrowed. "How does it end, exactly? With my death? Or the destruction of the entire realm?"
"Perhaps both."
