Page 66 of To Charm a Dark Prince

That had to rub Lancelot the wrong way. And with how the Knight in Silver was glowering at his prince, it did. She hadn’t ever been in the center of a love triangle before, and she had to say she hated it. Besides, she didn’t really trust either of them were being at all sincere.

Poor Lancelot. She felt for the guy and his impossible situation, all the same. “It’s fine,” she said quietly as she stood from the table. She was just a little wobbly. “I know where I’m going.”

“Yes, but I wish to ensure you do not tumble over a railing or wind up sleeping in a potted plant.” Mordred stood as well, clearly amused by her.

“I’m fine.” She was! She wasn’tthatdrunk. She was just alittledrunk. People got drunk all the time, didn’t they?

“And I am certain you are. But allow me the peace of mind to accompany you regardless, my lady? I would sleep easier knowing with certainty.” He walked up to her, offering her his hand, palm up. The claws of his gauntlet were still terrifying—like rusty, broken knives. They reminded her a bit of the forgotten and ancient tools she’d find in the barn from time to time. Neglected, but still extremely dangerous.

“I’m glad I’m up to date on my tetanus shots.” She put her hand in his.

“Pardon?”

His quizzical expression made him kind of adorable, she decided.

“Lockjaw? Y’know, when people get all twitchy and spasm and then die. From, like—cuts from infected things. Like somebody withstabby knives for fuckin’ hands.” Okay, fine, yeah, she was drunk.

Somebody snickered from behind her. She didn’t know who it was. Probably Percival or Lancelot. They seemed like the snickering types over Galahad.

“Ah.” Mordred seemed more amused than offended. He tucked her hand into his elbow and began to walk her from the room. She was suddenly a little glad for the support. “Let us get you to bed, my lady.”

“G’night guys,” she called over her shoulder at the three knights still seated at the table. They all mumbled a reply, but she was too distracted keeping her feet under her to know who said what. She walked beside Mordred as he led her down the hallway. “Sorry I’m a lightweight.”

“I should have warned you about the mead. It is easy to let it get away from you, with how sweet it tastes.” He placed his other metal hand over the back of hers. “I was too entertained, however, to stop you.”

“I see how it is,” she teased. “Getting me drunk so you can pump me for information.”

He huffed a laugh. “If that is a euphemism, I fear interrogating you would be the farthest thing from my mind.”

“Augh!” Her cheeks felt so hot that she actually had to check her hand to make sure she hadn’t burst into flames. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know.”

Sighing, she leaned on his arm as they walked. The feeling of her face against the armor wasn’t as uncomfortable as she thought it would be.

“What is troubling you?”

“Do you want the list?” She started counting off on her fingers. “Sucked into a magical world after my housebursts into flames.Find out that I now have wacky fire powers that I can’t control. Get abducted by the demigod tyrant of said world whose uncle wasfucking King Arthur, who has no business being as hot as he is for a guy who has everybody shoved in a magical supermax prison. Lancelot—fuckingtheLancelot—is hitting on me but probably is doing it just because he hates said hot demigod. And I’m probably gonna get shoved in the supermax prison because my asshole cat—” She stopped. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Stupid mead!

“Your cat?” Mordred arched an eyebrow down at her.

“I—um—I think he’s the one who knocked a candle over.” That was true. That was totally true. “It might have been what started the fire. I don’t really know.” Also true. Not the most graceful recovery, but none of it was technically a lie.

“Hm.” It was clear he didn’t quite believe her. “And I am a ‘hot’ demigod tyrant, am I? Would you care to explain the insult to me? I would like to know precisely how you think I am deficient in this regard.”

Insult?Oh.Oooh, he thoughthotwas an insult. She laughed. She couldn’t help it. And as he looked down at her, clearly a little offended, she laughed even harder. Her laughter doubled down on his annoyance, and she doubled down on her giggling.

“I’m sorry—It’s not—” She couldn’t help it. Every time she tried to explain herself, his grumpiness made her start laughing again. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, waving her hands to stop her giggle fit. “Calling you hot isn’t an insult. It’s a compliment.”

“I…see.” He didn’t seem to believe her. “In what way?”

“I’m calling you attractive, that’s—whoa!” She almost fell over with her eyes shut, the alcohol making her balance questionable at best. His arms snapped around her to keep her from toppling to the ground. She was laughing again, smiling up at him. Now he just looked bemused. But at least he wasn’t angry anymore. “You haveno rightto be this handsome. It’s really frustrating.” She poked him in the middle of the chest—well, breastplate. Stupid armor.

“Is it? How so?” Now he was smiling, if vaguely.

“Because you’rethe bad guy.Right?” She sighed. “Stupid—stupid fuckin’ Crystal thing. You should blow it up.”

“I fear I will have to disagree. And you are quite drunk.”

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