Page 42 of The King's Weapon

"Hmm?" Graeson mumbled, blinking.

"You're staring."

Graeson averted his eyes, focusing back on the bowl in front of him. After swallowing down a spoonful of stew, he said, "Nothing."

From across the table, Menz grabbed the large knife sitting in the middle of the table and cut off a slice of bread. "Kalisandre, if you would like more there is plenty."

"Thank you," Kallie mumbled.

Menz tipped his head and smiled softly, setting the knife back down.

Smirking to the side, her eyes fell on the knife. As she stood up, the chair screeched across the hardwood floors and Kallie could have sworn half of the table, besides Menz and Fynn, stopped breathing. She reached over the table and grabbed the knife as Graeson reached to his back.

No one spoke. No one moved.

She dropped her gaze to the blade, running a single finger across the side of the metal. Her gaze flicked to Fynn, who leaned back in his chair, his arm hanging over the back of his chair. His face was nearly expressionless, a hint of amusement sparkled in his eyes. To her right, Kallie heard the sound of the floorboards bending beneath Graeson's weight.

She waved the knife around. As she looked at each of them, some of their faces lost their pigment.

It would be easy to kill one of them. But that was not her objective right now. She had other plans for them. A sly smile rose to her face. "Anyone want a piece?"

The others at the table remained glued to their seat, hands falling beneath the table. No doubt they were reaching for their weapons hidden on their persons. Besides Fynn though, who remained relaxed, calm.

Curious,she thought.

When no one answered, she shrugged a single shoulder. "More for me then." She sliced off a thick piece of the warm bread, the jagged blade scraping against the cutting board. She tossed the knife back onto the table, making it rattle against the table. She ripped off a large chunk and shoved the sourdough in her mouth. With an exaggerated moan, she closed her eyes, as she chewed the freshly baked bread and sunk back into her chair.

As she reveled in her ability to shake them, the tension in the room remained taut. Graeson, who was now back in his seat, stayed alert while he watched her.

As Kallie chewed on the bread, it occurred to her that Graeson never seemed at ease. The only time he seemed relatively relaxed was when he was with his horse. And even then, there was tension in his body.

"Why so tense,Gray?"Kallie elongated the nickname she had heard the others use. When Graeson remained silent, unmoving, she giggled.

Dani said, "Oh ignore him. Graeson has always been a little uptight ever since—"

"Dani,” Graeson's cold voice cut through the room like a blade.

Kallie glanced between the Pontians. "Ever since what?" Kallie inquired, curious as to why Graeson seemed so bothered. A noise similar to that of a growl erupted from Graeson as he stared at Dani. And he seemed to transform into something akin to a beast, his irises darkening, the muscles in his jaw ticking.

Maybe that was why he treated animals with more respect than humans. He was one.

"Gray, go tend to the horses," Fynn commanded from across the table. But despite Fynn's tone, Graeson stayed fixed to his seat, the muscles in his back flexing.

"Now,Graeson," Fynn barked, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist.

Graeson slammed his spoon on the table, the sudden movement making Kallie flinch. He pressed his palms into the table, putting half of his weight on them as if the act of removing himself from the table went against some natural instinct. When he finally stood, his silver eyes met Kallie's.

He said nothing as he looked at her. But the way he lingered made it seem like he wanted to say something. Did he blame her for his outburst? It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t control his anger.

Then before Kallie could wipe off the confusion cast across her face, Graeson stormed out of the room. Seconds later the front door slammed, shaking the paintings on the wall.

"Maybe he should stay out in the stable tonight," Dani murmured. "Let the air cool him off."

"Dani, for once," Fynn said, his voice muffled as he rubbed his hands across his face, "shut the hell up."

Dani shrugged, then continued wiping the edges of her empty bowl with a chunk of bread, soaking up the remaining drops of broth.

Kallie looked between the four people who remained at the table trying to understand what had happened. Terin's gaze was locked on his bowl as if the potatoes and carrots inside it were the most interesting sight he had seen while Fynn sat rubbing his temple. When her eyes landed on Menz, he only gave the slightest shake of his head at her. Perhaps it was best if she didn’t know what had transgressed just now.