Chapter 15 #2
Sweat prickled over her goosebump-ridden flesh. He was too close to the mark. “You’re absolutely mad,” she said, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. “I have no plans to k-kill anyone! All I’ve ever wanted—”
“Is freedom?” He snorted. “Don’t make me laugh, Princess. I don’t know why you keep insisting on pretending like you’re an innocent fawn who could do no wrong, when you’re actually a fire-breathing poisonous viper.”
She reeled back. “Now you’re resorting to insults?”
“Insults? If I wanted to insult you, I wouldn’t call you a viper, for one.”
“Oh, is it supposed to be a compliment?”
“No, it’s just the truth. Something you seem averse to.”
“Get out of my room,” she snapped. The water was becoming cold and her finger pads were wrinkling with too much moisture.
A shiver ran over her bare shoulders and she ducked even lower, glaring at him from above the rim of the tub.
“You can’t possibly argue with me while I’m in the bath.
That’s clearly an imbalance of power. I’m vulnerable. ”
“You, vulnerable? I very much doubt it.”
“Leave.”
“No.”
“I’m—” A furious flush spread over her face, but mostly from mortification and anger, because how dare he barge in while she was bathing and argue with her instead of simply leaving her to change?
How dare he refuse to leave? “The decent thing for a decent man to do would be to excuse himself while the lady takes that time to change into something appropriate, but I seem to be forgetting that I’m not dealing with a decent man! ”
The grin he shot her was absolutely feral. “Ah, that’s right, princess. You’re dealing with a fucking monster, and I’m not planning on leaving.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Had she called him that earlier? She was almost positive she had kept her opinions on him—how much of a bloodthirsty monster he was—to herself.
“I never said you were a monster,” she said.
“Oh, but you sure do feel it, don’t you? The way you look at me. The way you recoil. The way you glare when you think I’m not looking. You think I’m a monster, princess. Something straight out of your nightmare.” A cruel smile twisted his lips. “You’re terrified of me.”
“Does that make you proud?” Her voice shook, and she wasn’t sure if it was from rage or fear.
His expression faded to neutrality. “You want to use me for some reason. I’ll find out why soon enough.”
“Why—” She released a frustrated sigh. “Why would I choose you out of all the Peccata members? You? Seriously? You think I would want to bind myself to you? If I really was planning something by binding myself to a Peccata member, I certainly wouldn’t have chosen you! I would have chosen Minos!”
Something akin to rage flashed over his face and he pushed himself off the door. “Minos? You would choose him?” he said in disbelief. “Why?”
He actually sounded … offended.
Biyu couldn’t figure out why that triggered him, but she didn’t like the ferocity in his voice, nor the way he was glaring at her.
She lifted her chin, mirroring his own expression, because at the end of the day—she had struck a nerve.
“Maybe because he’s handsome, for one. He also seems polite.
And he probably wouldn’t be arguing with me while I’m naked in a bathtub! ”
“You seem to think you know all there is about Minos,” Nikator scoffed. “He’s not as nice as he appears, princess.”
“Oh, but I’m sure he would leave the room when I asked him to and he would probably let me put my clothes on so I’m not freezing in my bath water. Oh! And let’s not forget—he would probably not threaten me at every chance he gets!”
“When did I threaten you?”
“That’s the only thing you want to focus on?” She pointed to the door. “How about you leave so I can change!”
“And if I say no?”
Biyu had the urge to throw something at him, but there was nothing close to her that she could chuck at the incredibly frustrating man. “You know what, you’re right—you are a monster. A horrible, horrible monster!”
“Is that the first time you’ve tried being honest?” There was a mocking quality to his voice and it only enraged her further.
“Get out!” Biyu grabbed some of the half-disintegrated soap she had used for her hair and tossed it in his direction. It flew above his head and smacked against the wall, crumbling on impact. She fisted a handful of the rose petals and tossed that too. “Get out! Just—just go!”
Nikator eyed the petals, which hadn’t even gone more than a foot away from the claws of the bathtub, and then smirked. “Why don’t you try asking nicely?”
This man.
Biyu wanted to strangle him.
“Why is it so hard for you to get out!” she shouted, pointing to the door once again. “I’m not going to ask nicely. I’m just telling you to get out! Let me put some clothes on!”
“Why is it so hard for you to ask nicely? Or to stop screaming at me? As a princess, aren’t you supposed to be more refined?”
Refined? This man was asking her to be more refined?
That was it. She was going to kill him somehow, because how could he ask her of that when he was acting like an absolute fiend?
Biyu looked around herself quickly for a weapon or something to hurl at his head and, hopefully, do more damage than her shattered mirror had done.
Her intended weapon turned out to be another chunk of soap, this one more disintegrated than the last one and glued to the bottom of the tub.
She peeled it off, bunched the oily substance in her hand, and tossed it as hard as she could.
Nikator turned his face to the side as the small piece of soap zoomed past him and struck the door. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a mischievous, amused grin, and she wanted to smack him.
“You’ve got good aim,” he noted. “Almost like you’ve done this before.”
Biyu was reminded of the time she had flung a moldering apple at him and how he had dodged it.
Back then, she had been horrified that she had almost hit him, but now she wished she had.
She would have loved to see his haughty expression morphed into disgust and shock as rotten apple juice dripped off the sharp planes of his aggravatingly handsome face.
Nikator’s chest rumbled and he tipped his head back to chuckle.
The shock of the lyrical sound jolted through her, warming her down to her toes despite her fury.
He smiled at her almost innocently, and she hated how charming he looked like that—grinning so widely that it was easy to forget that he was a vexing, murderous annoyance.
“You didn’t ask nicely, but I’ll indulge your request.” He shifted until his back was facing her and the mocking quality of his voice didn’t decrease as he continued, “I fear that if I continue, your flesh will turn vermillion and you’ll actually start breathing fire.”
“How very generous of you,” she snapped.
Biyu jerked upright, water sluicing down her body, and stepped out of the tub while keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t sneak a peek. She bent down and snatched the towel that was a foot away. She wrapped it around her body as snugly as she could and rushed over to her wardrobe.
“You’re an insufferable man,” she seethed, yanking at the handle.
The door swung on its hinge and hit one side of the wardrobe.
She yanked out the first inner robes she got her hands on.
Water dripped down from her hair to her shoulders and trickled over her legs.
“I’ve never had to deal with someone as rude and … ”
She couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out because that wasn’t true.
She had dealt with someone much worse than Nikator.
She thought of the guard who had pleasured himself while she slept, she thought of how she had tried to run and he had chased her, and then she thought of the other guards who had planned something sinister for her.
Not to mention years ago when other palace guards had tried to do the same.
For some reason, she wasn’t consumed with terror, paralyzed and shaken, or even stricken with the need to flee far away.
It still didn’t change that he grated on her nerves or that she did fear him, but it wasn’t the same kind of fear.
She paused in her steps as the realization sank in—when had Nikator seemed less terrible than the others?
“Are you done?” His smooth voice broke through her muddled confusion.
“No.” She dried off with the towel, her eyes set on his back as she began dressing herself.
He was so tall and large—it made her uncomfortable the way he took up so much space in her cramped room.
It made her so uncomfortable that she couldn’t help but stare at the broadness of his back, at the way his fitted clothes spanned over his corded muscles, at the way his body was insanely powerful, lithe, and built for war. For battle. For … various activities.
A blush spread over her face like a wildfire.
What was she thinking? She must have been losing her mind.
Biyu bunched up the towel in her hand and, without thinking too hard—which would have possible led her to change her mind—she threw it at the back of his head.
It smacked right on target and flopped on the floor.
Nikator grabbed his head and turned sharply, while Biyu couldn’t help the wide grin that split her face in half.
“There. We’re even now.” She practically skipped to her bed, ignoring his dark scowl, and sat on the edge of her bed.
“Even? For what? I didn’t throw anything at you.”
“We’re even because you interrupted my bath, you watched me like a …
like a creep,” she said, putting down two fingers.
“Oh, and you kept dodging when I threw things at you. I could make a long list of all the horrible things you’ve done to me, but we’ll keep it simple with just the past twenty or so minutes. ”