Chapter 13
HARK
Gods, he was such a prick.
He hadn’t meant to upset her. At least, that’s what he thought was happening. She had shut down completely, her spine had stiffened, and a grim line had replaced the arrogant smirk she so often wore with pride.
He couldn’t apologise, though – didn’t want to. He couldn’t grow to like her, and he certainly couldn’t care about offending her.
The less he knew about Arla Reinhart the better.
She was a conniving, wicked little wretch, and it was as plain as the dragon tattooed on his heart that she didn’t plan on letting him return to Hadalyn alive.
He’d be lucky to make it back to Kastonia without a blade in the back, especially after this.
For two years they had just about tolerated each other.
Two years of nasty retorts and looks that would threaten the gods.
But now that he had crossed the line, he regretted it and didn’t know why.
Perhaps it was seeing the fire leave those coal-black eyes – though they were not black at all when you looked closely, more the colour of coffee beans in the right light—
Enough. He shouldn’t be close enough to even tell.
But he still felt relief when she began speaking again.
‘Prince Reuben is rather confident, isn’t he?’
Hark’s shoulders stiffened at her words. He shouldn’t have mentioned it before – that he’d seen her getting close with the prince. Now she knew it irritated him, she would prod and poke at that annoyance until she dragged a reaction from him.
‘No more confident than other princes,’ he said, clenching his jaw against … what?
He blocked out whatever she said next, the grinding of his teeth the only sound he allowed to penetrate the bubble of nothingness he wove around him.
She had got closer to the prince in the span of a few days than Hark had ever seen her be with anyone at Castle Grey.
It had angered him beyond words the first night; had rendered him tossing and turning all night for reasons he couldn’t explain.
She hadn’t known the prince existed before this mission.
King Elrod kept the boy on a tight leash and he almost never allowed him to leave the four walls of Larkire Palace.
Hark presumed Arla’s ignorance on the matter was also partly the result of allowing her hatred to blind her to the facts.
She’d probably never cared to spend a second of her time researching the kingdom that had stormed hers.
He knew she had only travelled through it a dozen times, never lingering a second longer than she had to. Still, he had been surprised.
‘He’s charming really – for a Kastonian. I’d expected someone bitter and twisted like the rest of your—’
‘Enough.’ Lethally soft – a warning. Hark didn’t know how he’d let her back into his head, only that he didn’t wish to hear a second more for fear of what he would do if he heard the prince’s name on her lips again.
But Arla Reinhart had never known when to keep her gods-damned mouth shut, and Hark hated that he was glad of it.