Chapter 10
T he princess’s farewell was nothing short of dramatic, just as everything surrounding her seemed to be.
It would have been enough, with Korhonan’s overly stoic face, Lady Inessa’s protective hug, and a look from Iiro that I would almost—almost—have described as remorse, one that raised more questions than answers.
Even Lady Mila seemed to have been affected by the Lochlannian’s presence. Though her eyes were wide with terror, she, too, made a nominal effort to stop me from taking the girl she had only known a handful of days.
What was it about this storms-damned princess?
All in all, it was almost a relief to be in the carriage with only my newly acquired pet to irritate me. All traces of her tears had vanished, replaced by a sullen sort of acceptance.
I braced myself for her endless chatter and accusations, but she said nothing. It was almost disappointing, since it left me all the time in the world to consider Kirill’s words, and what situation we might be returning to.
In most aspects of my life, I preferred to have secure plans - several of them - with room for contingencies. But Mairi and my father were both wildcards in their own ways. To say nothing of the barrel full of black powder currently occupying the bench across from me. Suffice it to say, the possibilities of disaster were endless at this point.
I leaned my head back and shut my eyes, trying to block out the frustration of the many variables in this equation that were far outside of my control.
Mairi. My father. Iiro. The princess. Then there was the looming threat of the Lochlannians on the other side of the mountain.
Der’mo .
We were hardly halfway down the road before I heard the sound I had been waiting for—the whisper of a dagger sliding from its sheath. The muted clink of the charm against the silver bracelet she must have purchased from a vendor at the Summit.
Well, I couldn’t fault her nerve, I supposed.
Storms , Korhonan had been such an idiot to leave her armed.
Even he couldn’t have been so obtuse as to miss the sheath on her thigh when she was half dressed and pressed up against him. I ignored the twinge of annoyance that I got whenever that particular mental image came to mind, basking instead in the small bit of satisfaction I had gained from taking her away from him.
A small victory, in a sea of complications.
Suppressing a sigh, I darted out my hand to clasp her wrist, moving mostly on instinct and sound.
“I wouldn’t,” I warned her.
Then again, I wouldn’t do a lot of the supremely stupid things that she had done in the single week I’d known her.
I felt it as she froze, opening my eyes further to observe her only to be met with wide green eyes and full lips pursed in frustration.
“I’d hate to have to put you on a leash, Lemmikki,” I couldn’t help but taunt her.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Somehow, I doubt that,” she spat back.
Perhaps she was right. There was a certain appeal to leading her around like an actual pet until she quit doing things like trying to stab me every time I closed my storms-blasted eyes.
I leaned forward, easily plucking the dagger from her slim hand. I didn’t break eye contact long enough to look at it, but it was heavier than I expected, though weighted perfectly, and the hilt was oddly shaped.
“You may as well get some rest, Princess,” I told her with more sincerity. “We won’t stop until nightfall.”
I tucked the dagger out of sight so it wouldn’t be such a temptation to her, since storms knew she wouldn’t be able to resist if it was. She held my gaze for a heartbeat longer, emotions brimming at the surface of her eyes — but still no fear.
Not for the first time, I noted that she was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
Or more likely, an incredibly dangerous combination of the two.
Once the shock of being captured wore off, the questions and accusations I had been waiting for finally came. Along with a healthy dose of that self-righteous temper of hers I had already become accustomed to.
“For someone who claims they didn’t want another war with my kingdom, you’re doing a damned good job of starting one.”
I took a deep breath through my nose, only briefly debating the poetic justice of stabbing her with her own dagger.
It was almost humorous that she imagined I was the one starting a war. Especially when she was the one who got caught smuggling booze for little more than her own amusement.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Princess. You did that all by yourself,” I assured her.
“Only one of us made the conscious decision to incite a war,” she argued.
Was that how she justified it? That I took her on purpose—to avoid said war—and she just traipsed into enemy territory on an accidental whim.
“While the other was just too asinine to avoid it,” I shot back. “Do you honestly think that’s better?”
“I think anything is better than the sick games you play.”
That was interesting, given that I still wondered if her entire presence here was a game, but it sure as hell wasn’t mine.
“Which games would those be?” I inquired, all false politeness.
She glared at me. “You knew all along about the blood debt, and you were perfectly happy to sit back while the Summit decided to kill me. So what was it? Did you just want to wait until I had the tiniest sliver of hope before you swooped in and crushed it?”
It must be nice to live in her little princess bubble.
“Contrary to what you’ve obviously been brought up to believe, not everything is about you,” I informed her casually. “Storms, is everyone from Lochlann this impossibly self-centered?”
“I think it’s fair to say that my being ripped away from my fiancé and taken as someone’s pet very much is about me.”
Sure, if you were looking at the very smallest part of the picture. But I doubted seriously I would be able to make her see that.
“At least you’ve come to terms with it,” I said instead. “Forever is a long time for you to be in denial.”
She sat straighter in her seat, indignation seeping from her every pore. “The hell I have.” A shadow crossed her features. “And we both know forever isn’t on the table when my father finds out you took me.”
I didn’t have much to say to that… because she wasn’t wrong. I only had a handful of months to find a solution to the mess Iiro had thrown me into, but like hell was I going to admit to that to Princess Battering Ram, here.
“Ah, relying on Papa to bail you out of trouble?” I injected my tone with all the nonchalance I didn’t feel. “You could at least try to be original, Princess, or do you enjoy being a walking cliché of a middle royal child?”
Her lips once again pursed into a pout, and I averted my gaze. Because it was irritating, obviously.
She was irritating.
I was so caught up in thinking about how irritating she was that it took me longer than it should have to realize the carriage was slowing to a halt.
Of course we were.
Der’mo , she was causing more trouble already.