Page 24 of To Charm a Dark Prince

“Are you planning on murdering, maiming, torturing, or traumatizing me? Or throwing me into the Crystal?” She did her best to stay standing up straight, even if she wanted to hide under the table she had bumped into. “I just—I just want to know what to expect.”

He chuckled. A deep sound that resonated in his chest. She had heard his laugh before, but she had been a bit distracted with everything else going on to really appreciate it. It sounded like thunder on the horizon. “Tonight? No.”

Well, that was better than a yes. “And what about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow remains to be seen.” Using the same sharp talon, he deftly brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “To be frank, firefly, I do not know what to do with you.”

That was fair, she guessed. Frowning, she nodded, accepting that answer for now. “Just, um, if you make up your mind, will you tell me? On second thought—if you’re gonna kill me, don’t warn me. Just do it when I’m not paying attention.” She wrinkled her nose at the idea. “Not that I’m asking you to, or anything.”

That drew out another laugh from him, louder than the first. “I will do what I can.” He gestured to one end of the table where a stack of clothing was folded up. “I had my servants fetch you clothing. That is…unless you wish to remain in nothing but a cloak.” He tilted his head to the side slightly as his gaze wandered down her body. “I certainly do not mind.”

Her cheeks felt like they had burst into flames, which was now apparently a thing that could happen. She knew she must be blushing solid crimson. “I—um—” She cleared her throat and stepped to the side, escaping from him. “No, normal clothes would be lovely, thank you.”

“Damn.”

She tried not to laugh. She at least managed to hide her smile. All right, that was kind of funny. And flattering. She just wasn’t used to people flirting with her, especially not someone like him. Walking to the end of the table to the folded clothes, she found a chemise and a deep crimson dress that looked like it had a bodice that laced up in the front. It smelled a little bit dusty, but it looked in good condition. The fabric was thin wool and it seemed like it would help keep her plenty warm.

Mordred walked to the head of the table and poured himself another goblet of wine. “I apologize for the lack of undergarments. My servants do not have need for clothing, being made of metal as they are. I had to send one into storage to locate anything at all.”

That would explain the dust. “Thank you. It’ll do fine.” She looked over to him, and realized he was watching her. “I’m not going to change with you staring at me.”

He smirked. “What if I told you it was customary in Avalon?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” She glared at him half-heartedly. It was clear he was teasing her. She gestured for him to face away from her.

“I have already seen you naked once.” His smirk broadened into a playful grin.

“No.”

“Pah! Being a prince is good for nothing.” He turned his back to her, facing the fire. “Does that suffice?”

She shook her head, once more smiling. She didn’t expect him to be cracking jokes with her. “Yeah. Thanks. I’ll let you know when you can turn around.” She took off the cloak and draped it over the back of the chair, quickly pulling the chemise on. It wasn’t the softest material in the world, but it wasn’t the worst either. The dress was easy enough to pull on, and it honestly fit her pretty well, all things considered. She began lacing up the front, starting at the bottom and working her way up. She knew she was meant to cinch the thing up like crazy—but she liked breathing. “Done.”

He turned and watched her finish lacing up her dress. “Red looks wonderful on you.”

Her cheeks went warm again. Damn it, she really wished she would stop blushing. “I guess it goes with my hair, now.”

“What color was it before?”

“Brown.” She shrugged. “Nothing exciting.”

“I prefer it this way. Though I understand your confusion. I was once blond.” He waved a hand at his own head. “The magic of Avalon is often strange in its manifestations.”

“No kidding.” Why was he so easy to talk to? It made no sense.I mean, look at him.

He gestured at the chair beside the throne that was set for a guest. “Will you join me for dinner, firefly? You must be starving.”

She was, now that she thought about it. “What time is it? I guess I missed dinner.”

“More like that you missed breakfast and lunch. You slept through the day.” He glanced at the window. “We reached my keep just as the dawn broke, and now it is a few hours after sunset.”

She blinked. She had no sense of how much time had passed. “I was exhausted.”

“With good reason. Come, sit with me.” With a scrape of wood on wood, he pulled out the chair for her.

Damn that voice of his. It made her more conflicted than she already was. With a shuddering breath, she walked to the table and sat down. She stayed perfectly still, afraid of making any sudden movements.

Standing beside the chair, he leaned over her to reach for the jug and poured the wine into the gold goblet. He was so close that a strand of his long, metallic hair brushed against her shoulder. She shivered.

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