Chapter 7
HARK
He hated the way she looked at him. The same level of disgust and resentment she had rendered from the moment they had been introduced two years before was stronger than ever.
Like it was his fault her parents had died.
Perhaps if they had laid down their weapons and stood aside upon the storming of Hadalyn, they would have kept their heads.
But no, if Reinhart was anything to go by, her parents would have been just as stubborn and disrespecting of authority.
He didn’t know how she’d made it to ‘King’s Assassin’. Gods, she hadn’t even noticed him following her through the slums, and she had been surprised to see him tonight. She was becoming too confident in her own abilities, too sure that there was no one alive who was as skilled as her.
Easily rectified, he thought, in the shadows of the servants’ quarters. It hadn’t been a shock to find her wandering the hallways; in fact, he’d have been disappointed if she hadn’t been. Her king certainly would.
It was obvious – her anger. It was a burning, living thing that flared brighter the more she learned of Kastonia and its royals.
He knew she would want answers about why Larkire Palace was so wealthy when the rest of the kingdom wasn’t.
She’d find out soon enough and the thought made him itch.
She would be livid; she would want to hurt every member of Kastonia’s royal family and Hark didn’t want to be anywhere near her when she did find out.
She would hate him even more. But he couldn’t tell her yet; wouldn’t tell her ever, if he had any sense. Gods, she would be a liability! He would not be able to control her then – and nor would he want to. Arla Reinhart was a whirlwind, a force to be reckoned with.
But his breath had hitched when he had walked into dinner tonight. The sight of her in that dress the colour of pine needles had made him wish he’d swallowed half a bottle more of that rich, smoky whisky he longed for during his time in Hadalyn.
And the way she flirted with the prince? Gods, he’d wanted to throw himself from the top of his tower!
He didn’t know what she was doing to him. Was it magic? Had she put him under some sort of spell? One that had manipulated him into not hating the sight of her recently.
Gods, he’d spent too long in Castle Grey.