Page 43 of Shadow Mark

“Oh, it’s more than enough.” Now, it was Lenore’s turn to pace the cabin. The absolute nerve of this man. “No.”

“No?” His eyes widened and his brows went up. “May I inquire as to the fault you find in my proposal?”

Lenore huffed. “Where do I begin? We don’t know each other.”

“We have known each other for two years.”

“We’ve known of each other. We’ve spoken to each other three times, one of which you called me smelly and gross, which you still haven’t apologized for, by the way, and that pisses me off more than your insulting proposal.”

“I meant no insult?—”

“The fuck you did. You deign to marry me, which goes against the advice of your political advisers and even your better judgment. Wow, super flattering. And then you called me ugly.”

“I never said you were unattractive.” To his credit, Baris sounded genuinely baffled. “You know I find you pleasing.”

“My beauty does not dazzle you, though I am pleasing enough.” She intended a mocking tone as she threw his words back in his face. Instead, insecurity and doubt betrayed her, and her voice cracked. Her chest hitched with the threat of a sob.

No. She refused to cry because this dickbag hurt her feelings. She knew what she looked like, which wasn’t stunning or pretty or even cute. Her hair was mousy brown and her cheeks too red. She was plain and never had a problem with that.

“Tell me why I should be flattered that you would willingly lower yourself to marry someone like me with no connections, no money, and no influence.” She crossed her arms over her chest, instantly remembering a lecture from the early days of her residency about body language. People thought crossing their arms over their chest made them look tough, but it showed you were vulnerable, covering your most precious organs. Well, she felt vulnerable, so fuck it. Let Baris see.

“You should be flattered because I would make you a queen—my queen—to rule a kingdom that spans the stars and elevate you above all others. No one else can offer you such a position.” His tone had turned cold, and his eyes narrowed.

“First, if I ever do marry again, and that’s a big if, it will be to someone who respects me. The gall of you, insulting me to my face and then saying, hey, baby, you’ll never get a better offer, so why not marry me?” She was unable to stop the avalanche of words. The more she spoke, the angrier she grew. “The arrogance of you, to insult me to my face and expect me to thank you.”

Baris pushed himself up from the chair and went to the sideboard. With the press of a button, an entire drinks cabinet emerged from the wall, and he poured himself a drink. He did not offer her a glass, which was fine by her. He’d probably poison it. With glass in hand, he returned to the window.

Calmly, he sipped the amber liquor before breaking the silence. “You’ve made your feelings quite clear. I apologize for the insult and wasting your time.”

That was as clear of a dismissal as she had ever heard. Not one to wait around, she headed to the door. It opened as she approached. She paused at the threshold, wanting to get in one last jab.

Baris had a hand pressed to the window, his head hanging.

There was nothing else to say.

BARIS

Baris waited for the soft sound of the closing door. When he was certain Lenore had left, he flung the glass across the cabin. It smashed into the wall, splashing liquor and ruining an exceptional rug.

He had acted impulsively, exactly as Vekele warned against, and he had ruined the tentative friendship between himself and Lenore.

He needed to correct the situation.

LENORE

“Have you given any idea as to what you want to do since we’re here for-ev-er?” Lydia asked, stretching out forever until it certainly felt that way.

Lenore stirred a packet of sugar into her coffee. Not sugar. Sweetener. The tiny crystals were pink and came from a root plant, not sugar cane, and that stirred up feelings of homesickness. No more sugar for coffee, just pink sweetener. Since she was here for the long haul, she needed to shift away from Earth-centric thinking.

As hard as that would be.

“A little,” Lenore answered. “I’m a doctor. It’s all I ever wanted to be, and I don’t want to stop being a doctor.”

“Isn’t that your job now? Personal physician to the princess seems like a sweet gig.”

“A boring gig.”

Lydia shrugged her shoulders. “Fair enough.”

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