Chapter 7 Cethin
Cethin
By Arius, he needed to know what that bastard had said to her. How long had they been alone in this dining room? Long enough for Razik to plant lies and rumors if she’d been here before him and he’d already finished his godsdamn breakfast.
Cethin hadn’t been able to sleep after leaving the female in her rooms with strict orders to the castle guards to alert him immediately if she tried to leave.
Apparently, he should have been more specific, because while he’d meant if she tried to leave her rooms, they’d interpreted his orders as if she tried to leave the castle.
When sleep had evaded him, he’d slipped down to his personal study and workroom in the castle catacombs.
No one knew of it, but he could still receive messages there.
Which is why he’d been more than a little perturbed when he’d emerged mid-morning and gone to her rooms to find her not there.
He’d rushed down here, finding the dragon with her, and then the male had leaned in and spoken low to her and—
She was staring at him.
Or rather, she was glaring at him.
He cleared his throat, reaching for the bowl of fried potatoes. “So you met Razik,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and void of the vitriol the male elicited.
“My arrow,” she said tightly, her fingers flexing on the table where her palms were pressed flat to the surface. Ashes fluttered around her fingertips.
“You seem very concerned about a single arrow,” he went on casually, adding scrambled eggs and toast with marmalade to his plate. “Would you like some?” he added, holding out the tray of toast to her across the table.
“No. What I would like is my arrow,” she snapped. “And I’m concerned about it because it’s mine.”
Cethin clicked his tongue as he stood and reached across the table. Moving the muffin to the side, he replaced it with toast before adding some bacon and eggs as well. “You have to eat. Or does your magic refill in some other way?”
“It refills by stabbing people,” she shot back.
He smirked, settling back into his chair. “Your reserves must be full after last night then.”
Those amber eyes narrowed even more as she pointedly shoved her plate away.
Stabbing a few potatoes with his fork, he didn’t react. Instead, he said, “We have some negotiating to do, tiny fiend.”
“I’m not negotiating anything.”
“Then I’m not returning your arrow.”
Fury sparked, her warm skin seeming to darken even more with it. “What is it, exactly, that you want from me?”
He took his time with his bite, slowly sliding the fork from his lips as he made a show of debating his next words. “Your name to start.”
“And if I share my name, you will return my arrow?”
“No.”
“Is that your favorite word?”
He flashed a feral grin. “No.”
She scoffed, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms.
“I’ll start,” he said. “My name is Cethin.”
“You’re the king,” she all but drawled. “Everyone knows who you are.”
“Did you know when you stabbed me?”
“If I had, I would have aimed for somewhere far more painful than your arm,” she replied with faux sweetness.
He hummed in response, scooping up some eggs. “I’m still confused as to what I did to deserve a stabbing.”
“I’m still confused as to why I don’t have my arrow back.”
Continuing as if she hadn’t spoken, he added, “All I did was save your face from meeting the ground.”
“Save my…” She trailed off, as if perplexed by his wording, before her resolve snapped back into place. “I wouldn’t have nearly fallen if you hadn’t run into me.”
“Something I tried to rectify by saving you.”
“You are what I need saving from,” she muttered under her breath.
He didn’t know why, but her words rubbed him the wrong way. The darkness in his soul writhed in his chest, and he straightened with indignation. “I would never hurt you,” he said, his voice low.
“Merely hold me hostage?”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” When she stared back at him in silence, he sighed, pushing his plate aside. “I need your help.”
“No,” she said simply.
He held back his smile. “Those arrows of yours can kill beings that are threatening my people. Aside from dragon fire, it’s the only other weapon we’ve found that can kill them.”
“Then give it back so I can continue to do so.”
“I’d like to partner with you to create more for my forces to use.”
“No.”
His brows flew up. “I just told you it’s one of two ways to kill threats to Avonleya, and you decline?”
“You use the word often enough. I assumed you knew what it meant.”
By the Fates.
“Okay,” he said through gritted teeth, his patience waning, as he pulled his plate back in front of him. “Let’s forgo the negotiations for a little longer. Did you enjoy the Esbat Festival?”
Her brow creased in confusion. “What?”
“The festivities last night. Did you enjoy the evening?”
She studied him for another long moment, as if trying to figure out an underlying meaning in his words. Finally, she said, “Until the hostage part, I suppose the evening was…fine.”
“Fine?” he pushed, polishing off his eggs.
“There were a lot of people there.”
“Were you planning on stabbing anyone else then? Or only me?”
She threw her hands up, shaking them out a little as she muttered, “By Temural.”
Temural?
That was an interesting god to invoke.
Temural and his sister, Saylah, were the children of Arius, the god of death and endings, and Serafina, the goddess of dreams and stars.
Arius and Serafina were two of the six original First Gods.
The four of them were often only whispered of by the beings of this realm.
It was believed that even speaking their names could anger them and summon unfavorable outcomes.
“Are you going to eat?” he asked, eyes dipping to her still untouched plate.
She followed his gaze before looking back up at him.
Then she reached over and picked up the muffin, taking a bite.
He went still, watching her as she chewed that bite of the food Razik had given her. Surely that wasn’t the reason. She simply liked baked goods more than eggs. And bacon. And toast.
Except then she was eating everything else, as if she’d needed to prove some point by starting with that godsdamn muffin.
Or maybe that bite of muffin had made her realize precisely how hungry she was.
The eggs. The bacon. The toast. Fruit and cheeses. She ate as though she hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks.
“Which part of the kingdom did you say you were from?” Cethin asked, watching her warily because clearly he needed to visit the town and ensure the people there weren’t godsdamn starving.
As if suddenly realizing what she was doing, she froze, a piece of bacon halfway to her lips. Amber eyes snapped to his as she said, “I didn’t.”
“I’m aware,” he drawled. “That was me asking.”
Her brow furrowed. “Then why not simply state the question?”
“Because direct questions seem to get me nowhere with you.”
She huffed, dropping the bacon back onto her plate. Then she went rigid when the sound of footfalls echoed. She really was an anxious thing around…well, anyone.
Cethin already knew who was about to enter the dining room though, and despite the majority of his days starting this way, he was more than a little irritated at his time with her being interrupted.
Zayan appeared moments later, pausing briefly when he spotted her. His chin-length dark blond hair was tied back in a barely there ponytail, and his dark brown eyes skipped from her to Cethin.
“Good morning, your grace,” he said tentatively. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” he sighed, because despite the irritation, it was the truth.
The conversation with her was going nowhere other than in circles, but if she wanted to continue down this path, that was fine.
He’d continue with her games. Gesturing to the male, he continued, “This is Zayan, Hand of the King. Zayan, this is tiny—”
“Kailia,” she interjected quickly.
Fucking finally.
He almost muttered the words out loud.
“This is Kailia,” he finished, watching her lips purse slightly as her name left his.
“It is a pleasure, Kailia,” Zayan said with a nod of his head, studying her. “Did you two meet at the Esbat Festival?”
“We did,” Cethin answered. “After the address to the Fae.”
Zayan’s smile was tight. Cethin had expected him to be overjoyed at his having a female at the breakfast table. This is what he and the advisory council had been pushing for, after all.
“And will we be seeing Kailia around the castle more often?” the Hand asked.
By Arius. He didn’t need to be that painfully obvious. Then again, it did work in Cethin’s favor with his current predicament.
“You will,” he said simply, holding Kailia’s stare the entire time. “We were finishing our meals before I showed her around the castle and grounds.”
“Well, don’t let me interfere,” Zayan said quickly, taking a step back. “The matters I have can wait.”
Gods, this female needed to stick around forever if this was all it was going to take to get Zayan to leave him the fuck alone for a few hours a day.
The male’s steps were hurried as he left the room, and Kailia’s features twisted into a glare while Cethin smirked back in satisfaction.
“Do you always lie to your advisors?” she asked sharply.
“Which part of what I said was a lie? You offered your name, and I confirmed we met last night at the festival.”
“The part about seeing me around the castle more often.”
Each word was slow and deliberate.
His chair scraped softly as he stood. “I believe after our coming negotiations this morning that will be the case.”
“That’s absurd.”
“That’s confidence,” he corrected. “Now, I’m assuming you don’t plan to eat any more so we can go on a walk?”
“I’m not walking around your castle with you.”
“If you want that arrow back, you are.”
He could swear the smoke swirled faster in those amber depths.
With a huff, she got to her feet. “Do you always manipulate people to get your way, king?”
He tilted his head in mock confusion. “My apologies. I thought you wanted the arrow back.”