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“No,” she said, completely monotone.
“Yes, you did.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I moved to my feet and stood over her, resting my hands on my hips. “Emilie, look at me.”
She reluctantly did so, pinning me with a look of disdain. She couldn’t fool me. I heard the words clear as day. Her eyes flickered to my bare chest and then back to my face. I smirked, and that really seemed to get under her skin.
Emilie huffed. “Gods, Ladon. Would you put on a shirt?”
I grabbed a plain grey cotton shirt, one of a dozen clothing items we’d finally been given. About time too, since my old guard uniform had been tattered and torn to pieces.
After dressing, I took a seat next to Emilie. I picked up one of her books and flipped through the pages. They were all written in that same foreign language. “So, how can I help?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emilie
If I kept my eyes closed, I could pretend I was somewhere—anywhere—else. Through my eyelids I could see night was fading, and the early sunlight was shining into our cold, damp room. But as long as my eyes were closed, I could imagine I was back home in Dreslen. Or back in Osavian with the sound of waves crashing on the beach, my drapes catching the salty breeze off the sea.
I squeezed my eyes closed, almost willing it into existence.
There was a sharp intake of breath and my head rose half an inch. I grumbled before opening my eyes. The bed was warm for once. The thin mattress was soft and pliable against my cheek. I snuggled into it, wishing to fall back asleep. To take solace in my dreams and avoid reality.
The gray mattress rose and sank before my eyes. Slowly. Steadily. In a rhythmic pattern that matched the sound of soft thumping. A heartbeat.
I shot up.
“Morning,” Ladon said, smirking, with an arm tucked behind his head. How was he making such a casual position so…sultry. His voice still held that husky morning rumble. “Sleep well?”
My cheeks flushed. I’d fallen asleep with my head resting on his chest. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a small spot of moisture darkening his gray shirt and I prayed to the gods that it was not my own drool.
I tucked my untamed hair behind my ear. “I slept fine.”
“Mmhmm.”
“And you?”
He stifled a laugh. “I slept well. Thanks for asking. Do you plan on removing yourself from my thigh anytime soon?”
I looked down and, sure enough, when I’d bolted upright, I’d managed to straddle his upper thigh. I tumbled off his body and on to the floor, standing as quickly as possible and brushing dirt from my clothes. An embarrassing squeak slipped out of my mouth and I rushed to the bathroom, not wanting to face Ladon and the taunts he held on the tip of his tongue.
Breakfast arrived, and we ate in silence, occasionally catching each other’s gaze. He had a teasing glimmer in his eyes that made my skin hot. What was happening to me? I felt like I was going mad. Was this what happened to people in prisons? I’d heard inmates sometimes lost their mind due to isolation, but experiencing it firsthand was unnerving.
I shook my head, but it did little to clear my thoughts. Ladon still occupied every corner of my brain, to my dismay. I gulped down a glass of water to cool my heated skin.
“Scholars’ Cavern or scrubbing floors?” Ladon asked.
“What?”
“Which one? I’ll make a bet with you.”
I was torn between curiosity and suspicion. “What does the winner get?”
He pondered for a moment. “Pride.”
“That’s not a very good prize.”
