18. Aemon
18
“ I don’t fucking believe it,” Troi shouts, his face growing increasingly red by the second. “How could that tiny woman overpower three grown men, and then she—what—just walked out of the palace?”
I have to hold back my groan. I’ve been here for twenty minutes already, dealing with his fucking temper, when I should be getting my ass back out to look for Katya. Gods only know how much time I wasted scouring the streets before I ran into the stable hand whining about a female stealing his horse. Between that and Troi’s little temper tantrum, she’s already got a massive head start on me. “Fredrick said she messed with his head.” I wiggle a finger at my temple. “Made him strap himself into his own chair.”
“Fredrick’s an idiot,” he replies. He’s pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
“Fredrick should have never been allowed near her ,” is what I want to say, but I need to stay on his good side if I want to convince him to let me go after Katya. I get it. A little girl taking a bite out of a guard and killing him isn’t really a good look for the crown, but he’s wasting my time. “It doesn’t matter how it happened. But the longer I stand here not searching for her, the farther away she gets.”
“And she killed one of my guards,” he tacks on, ignoring my comment completely. Troi couldn’t give a flying fart about that guard. I doubt he even took the time to learn his name. What he’s really pissed about is that somebody got one over on him. Troi is the sort of ruler that doesn’t actually care if his people live or die, only if they live or die in opposition to what he wishes. “You go out there and get that bitch, and I’ll interrogate her myself.”
“No,” I say, way more forcefully than I intended.
Troi draws back, his eyes wide with shock. “Excuse me?”
Time to backtrack. “I’m sorry, your highness. I didn’t mean to offend. I just…” What do I say? Please don’t hurt her because I like her? He’d laugh in my face. I clear my throat, racking my brain for something to say. “We don’t know much about this power she has.”
His eyes narrow. “And?”
“What if what Fredrick said was true? If she has some sort of mental powers, she could be an invaluable tool. Think what we could do with someone who can get inside a spy’s head and root out the truth?” Gods, I hope I’m not overselling this.
Troi purses his lips and averts his gaze—that’s his thinking face. I’ve almost got him. “She’s a little girl, scared and alone,” I continue. I’m really pouring it on thick now. “We offer her a pardon—get her working for us. She’ll be safe and cared for and so grateful to us for sparing her life and giving her a home, she’ll do whatever we ask of her.”
He crosses his arms. “We won’t be able to control her.”
“There are other ways to control someone than through force.”
“Such as.”
“I was just—” I pause and take a breath. This isn’t going to work if I lose my temper. “I will take personal responsibility for the girl.”
The corner of his mouth quirks, like he’s trying to hold back laughter. I swear, the male is as mercurial as they come. He steps down the dais stairs and stops in front of me, eyes searching my face. “This isn’t about her powers at all, is it?”
Shit . “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A slow smile creeps across his face. Never a good sign. “I knew you wanted to fuck her, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You couldn’t care less about her powers. You just want to keep her for yourself.”
“Don’t be—”
“Don’t lie to your king, Aemon,” he says, punctuating each word with a jab to my chest.
He’s purposely trying to rile me, and it’s working. My gods damned blood is boiling in my veins, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to not grab that finger and rip it off. If he were anyone else, it would have already happened, but he’s the king and can quite literally have me killed anytime he chooses, so I’m going to keep those feelings close to the vest… For now.
Troi scrubs at the newly grown bristles on his chin. “I’ll give you, she’s nice to look at, but you know what I think?” He wags a finger at me and starts back up the steps. “I think you saw what she did to that guard and felt yourself getting all excited.” He flops onto his throne and throws a leg over one arm, grinning at me like a madman.
In truth, he isn’t too far off the mark, though I’d noticed her way before then. But if that’s what will get him to let me go after her, then I’m more than willing to comply. “It’s pretty impressive, though,” I say with a smirk and shrug. “I like a girl with a little fight in her.”
“Well, I need you here with me,” he says waving a hand dismissively. Bastard had me going for a minute there. I guess I should have known better. “Especially after all that’s happened,” he continues. “Who else can I trust to keep me safe?” He bats his lashes, feigning innocence and doing a shit job of it.
“I’m sure you’ll make do—”
“Do not,” he shouts, his temper leaking through that smug exterior, “argue with me. I am your king.”
Yet he feels the need to constantly remind me of that fact.
“And you will do as I say.”
And now he sounds like a four-year-old. “Of course. My apologies, your highness.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he begins, drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne. “I’ll send Fredrick after her. He lost the girl. He should be the one to retrieve her.”
“But your highness—”
“My decision is final.” He waves me away.
Fucking asshole. He’s doing this just to spite me. “Your highness,” I reply, trying and failing to keep the irritation out of my voice. I bow and start for the door.
“And Aemon,” he calls after me.
I stop short and pivot around. “Yes, your highness. ”
“Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you keep her, hmm?”
I bite my tongue against the expletives I want to hurl his way. “Thank you, your highness.” I spin back around and do my best not to stomp out the door like a fucking child.
The man gets me so damned infuriated. It’s amazing I didn’t slit his throat years ago. If he thinks I’m going to let Fredrick go after Katya so the sadistic son of a witch can torture her at his leisure, Troi’s sorely mistaken. Once I’m out of the king’s sight, I break into a jog. I crash through the door to my quarters, stupidly taking my frustration out on the piece of wood. It’s a testament to how distracted I am that I don’t even notice the figure standing in the corner until I’m practically on top of her. My training takes hold, and in an instant, I’ve got her arms pinned and my knife to her throat.
“Good to see you too, Aemon,” Elsbeth says, her back shaking with barely contained laughter. I swear the woman has no fear.
I shove her away and fit my knife back into my belt. “One of these days, I’m going to accidentally slit your throat. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
“That would be most unfortunate,” she says with a knowing smile. “I rather like my throat un-slit.”
I shake my head. Women are the strangest creatures. “What do you want, Elsbeth?” I ask, impatience leaking into my voice. I stomp past her, throw open the doors on the armoire, grab my saddlebags off the hook and toss them on my bed.
“I heard you lost the girl, Katya.”
“I don’t know that I’d call it lost.” I cross to the dresser and snatch up a couple changes of clothing, paying little attention to what I’m grabbing, and move back to the bed, where I proceed to stuff them in my bags. “She killed one guard, got past another, and I’m still not sure what she did to Fredrick. Oh…” I pause to look up at her. “He’s still in the interrogation room. You might want to send somebody to get him, eventually.”
She scoffs. “I am the last person you want to be telling that to. He can rot down there, for all I care.”
My sentiments exactly.
Elsbeth turns to peruse my bookshelf. She pulls out a thin book I don’t remember owning and turns around, leafing through the pages as she talks. “So, you’re going after her?” she asks.
One handed, I lift the corner of my mattress and grab the pistol I stashed there. “Yes.” Then over to the overstuffed chair. I’m fairly certain I hid a small boot knife there. I stuff my hand into the seam between the cushion and the frame and feel around.
“And Troi is alright with this?”
I huff out a breath and shake my head. Was she listening to our conversation? “Not exactly.”
“Aemon.” She snaps the book shut. “You go against his orders, and he’s going to have you hanged.
I check the other side. Where is that gods damned knife? “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
She draws back, giving me the side-eye. “You can’t be serious.”
“You and I both know she had nothing to do with the queen’s assassination. Got it,” I say, finally pulling the sheathed dagger from between the seat cushions.
“Of course, but—”
I put my foot up on the chair and shove the dagger into the strap sewn onto the inside of my boot. “If I leave her to Fredrick and his lackies, they’ll rape, torture and kill her before she ever makes it back to the palace. I can’t let that happen.” I turn back to the bed and continue packing.
“Aemon.” She rests a hand on my arm. “I like her too, but this—” She gestures to my bags. “You’re really willing to risk your life, to chase after a girl you hardly know?”
“Yes.” That’s all I give her because I don’t have a better reply. It’s fucking crazy and I know it, but there is no way I’m leaving her to Fredrick. Maybe I could kill him and claim he had been injured when— No. That would just put a bigger price on her head.
Elsbeth sets the book down on the bed and, ducking to meet my eyes, asks, “Tell me why?”
I pause my packing to knead the back of my neck where I can feel a headache already budding. “I don’t know.” And that’s the truth.
“Is something going on with you two?” Damn female. She’s the worst combination of nosy and insightful.
Again, I reply, “I don’t know.”
Elsbeth nods like that’s an answer she can accept, but her eyes are still creased with worry.
I sigh. “I’m his oldest friend, Elsbeth. Shit, I’m his only friend. I know he’ll be pissed, but he won’t have me killed.” I spin around and head for the bathing chamber.
“Are you sure about that?” she calls after me.
No . “Yes.” I snatch up my toothbrush and pot of paste, then rush back into the bedroom.
“Alright,” she says, picking the book back up and clutching it to her chest. “I’ll try to talk to him—”
“No,” I say, pointing my toothbrush at her before shoving it into my bag. “You stay as far away from him as possible. I don’t want him taking this out on you. ”
“Don’t you worry about me. I can handle Troi.”
“By drugging his bourbon, you mean?”
To her credit, she doesn’t even flinch. “We all do what we must to survive.”
“Well, try to survive until I get back.
She scoffs and starts for the door. “Says the person obviously intent on getting himself killed.”