Chapter 7 Cethin #2
He was suddenly thankful she didn’t have the fire gifts others from the Anala bloodline possessed. If she did, he was certain he’d be burning right now based on the look she was giving him.
“Shall we?” he asked when she said nothing. He gestured to the door at the other end of the hall. It would be a shorter path to the back gardens. Still within the wards, the gardens would leave her unable to move among her smoke and ashes. She wasn’t leaving unless he allowed it.
Kailia stalked past him, and he fell into step beside her. Neither of them spoke for a minute as they made their way down a long corridor. Not until he said, “Tell me again why this one arrow is so important to you?”
“It’s mine. That’s all that matters,” she retorted.
“But you can create more?”
“That’s not the point.”
“It most certainly is the point,” he countered. “As previously discussed, those weapons are one of only two ways we’ve found to defeat an enemy.”
“Then use the other way.”
“You cannot—”
He didn’t get to finish the thought. Not as he brought a hand to her lower back to guide her to the left since she didn’t know where they were going.
But the moment his fingertips grazed her back, she lurched away from him, her back against the opposite wall in the next blink.
Her eyes were wide, one hand was wrapped around the hilt of a dagger at her thigh.
She hadn’t drawn it fully, but it was partially out of the sheath.
A castle guard had advanced, his hand on his weapon as well. The guard was halfway to them, but Cethin quickly waved him off as he continued to watch her.
“Nothing will hurt you here,” he said carefully, watching for anything that would clue him in as to what had triggered such a response. When she remained silent, he pushed, “Kailia?”
“I…” Taking a shuddering breath, she straightened, shoving the blade back into the sheath before smoothing down her tunic. “I hate that you know my name.”
He barked a laugh. “You prefer I continue calling you tiny fiend?”
“No,” she retorted, stepping away from the wall. She jerked her chin to the left. “This way?”
He nodded slowly, still not entirely sure what had just happened, but she started down the hall, and he found himself following.
After several seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. “Back to the topic at hand, are you suggesting that I not use any means possible to protect the people in my care?”
“That is not what I said,” she replied tightly, glancing at him as they came to another crossroads.
He gestured left once more, leaving plenty of space between them, and she nodded before continuing on.
“That is exactly what you said,” he argued. “‘Use the other method.’ Why should I not use every method available to me?”
“Because my arrows are not available to you, nor am I.”
He nearly tripped at the simplicity of her statement. She couldn’t be serious. The lives of not just the Fae but hundreds of thousands in the kingdom could be at stake.
“What if they were your people?” he proposed, working to keep his tone casual as he pushed open a door to the back gardens.
Her brow creased in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“I told you last night that I am in need of a wife. If you were queen and these people were also your people, what would you do to protect them? Would you care then?”
Her features smoothed out, slipping back into impassivity. “I’m not going to be your wife.”
“You’re not very good at negotiating.”
“I’m excellent at negotiating. I see no benefit in this for me, whereas you seem to benefit greatly. Negotiations are usually mutually beneficial,” she replied, following a path through the various plants and flowers.
“Then tell me what would make this beneficial for you, tiny fiend,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back while they walked. “I assure you I could fulfill any manner of desires.”
She huffed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in amusement or annoyance.
Probably the latter.
“All I want is my arrow. That hardly seems enough to agree to a marriage over,” she mused, stopping to finger a closed flower bud.
“It depends on how badly you want the arrow back, I suppose. You need to be here at night to see those,” he added.
“What?” she asked, her fingers stilling as she looked up at him. Her hair was out of its plait, and midnight strands slipped over her shoulder with the movement.
He nodded at the closed buds. “They are star dahlias. They bloom in the evening, and stay open all night before closing to hide their secrets from the sun.”
Her head tilted as she resumed studying them. “That makes sense for a kingdom that loves the night,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.
She spoke as if she were new to the kingdom and were still learning all their intricacies and customs. Either she’d been incredibly sheltered her entire life, or…
Or she’d come over on one of the ships that had managed to pass through the Wards.
Son of a bitch.
It all fit.
Her sudden appearance. The uncertainty of their customs. Why she wouldn’t say which town she was from.
He opened his mouth to ask her which ship she’d arrived on, then snapped it shut.
She didn’t notice. She was still enthralled with the star dahlias.
It wouldn’t do any good to ask her anyway.
He’d had to coerce her into giving up her godsdamn name.
She wasn’t going to simply answer a question about where she’d come from.
But that was fine.
If anything, he was even more intrigued than he had been before. He had other ways to learn more about who she was and what secrets she was harboring. If she didn’t want to give them over willingly, he’d take them from her.
He’d get what he wanted from her one way or another.