“Miss Kiappa.” With his nasally voice, her name came out sounding sickly.
“Prince, if you’ll excuse me.” She gestured at her closed bedroom door.
Stepping forward, Prince Nekash blocked her, forcing her to stop short lest she barrel into his chest.
Her fist tightened, hopefully hidden in the folds of her skirt. She could so easily weave a knife and jab him in the thigh. But he was a prince, so that wasn’t the best idea. Grinding her teeth, she stepped back, searching for an excuse to walk the other direction.
His clammy hands grasped her, sliding down her arms from shoulder to elbow as he pulled her in. Flames flickered to life beneath his fingertips, not hot enough to burn, but uncomfortable, nonetheless. She imagined the action was meant to be charming, but it made her shudder.
“What a delightful surprise to find you here.” His hot breath tickled the loose hairs framing her face. “You’re looking lovely today. Those beautiful eyes.”
She recoiled.
Prince Nekash loosened his grip, but his flames stayed, swirling and licking up her forearms like a pair of quick-moving slugs.
Who knew fire could feel slimy?
Undeterred, he went on, “A unique scholar like yourself deserves the finer things in life. Wouldn’t you say? My salary is sufficient, should you be in need of any...support.”
In incredulous silence, she used her magic to draw what was essentially a cold cloth from thin air to rub down her arms, smothering the prince’s flames. “I have no idea what you’re on about, Prince Nekash. Thank you for your time, but I must be going.”
Someone walked past the end of the hall, and the peripheral motion was enough to capture the prince’s attention. Nesrina slipped behind him and palmed the handle to her room. As she pushed the door open, his repulsive breath tickled against her ear and his flames pranced across her shoulder blades.
“Tell me, Miss Kiappa, would you not consider the joys of a royal friendship? The palace could use someone of yourintellect.”
“I am already employed by the palace,” she retorted, pushing her door open further and sticking one foot inside.
“As a tutor, yes. But not as afriend.Our circles could intertwine in the most delightful ways. Consider it.”
“I will not, thank you.”
Nes stepped into her room and locked the door, in case the licentious prince was bold enough to force his way in.
Hourslater,shesmoothedher blue dress, took a deep breath, and cupped her ear to the door. Satisfied the hall was Nekash-free, she put on the most casual affect she could muster and strolled off on a mission. Ideally, Rihan would be finishing his shift and coming out of the parlor ahead, right when . . . she . . . passed.
The doors flew open, and the man of the hour stepped out, standing straight and tall, eyes forward, the embodiment of a member of the King’s Guard. When he turned her way, she snapped her eyes down, studying her skirts.
“Miss Kiappa.” His voice was thick and sweet, like after-dinner wine.
She lifted her gaze, angling for another sip. “Mr. Sarma, what a lovely surprise.”
“Join me for a bite in the kitchens?” He blessed her with a gleaming smile, and she forgot all about her intention to remain coy and flirtatious.
“I’d be delighted.” Her heart fluttered when he extended his palm to escort her downstairs.
When he’d first brought her up that staircase, she’d been ogling his behind, trying to distract herself from how terrified she was to present herself before the king. Now, two weeks on, her palm rested on his as he took her to dinner. A tingle ran from where the tips of her fingers lay against his calloused skin, quickening her heartbeat. If only she could get him to kiss her.
A scream pierced the air, and they locked eyes when another shriek followed. Racing upstairs, they approached the balcony above the ballroom, and the source of the chaos became evident. The twins and one of their nannies rushed around the dance floor, hands over their heads as they sought cover. Adella screamed again, and Ataht shouted something that sounded like, “I can’t stop it!”
Whatitwas, Nesrina wasn’t sure, but there was magic in the air, a concentration of chaos below her, near them. Pushing away from the railing, she raced down the grand staircase and into the ballroom, where a metallic monstrosity zipped through the air.
Good gods.
The magical creation whirled, slicing tapestries. Mila, the nanny, had a cut on her face and cowered behind a potted palm near the doors, beckoning the children to her. Tears streamed down Prince Ataht’s cheeks as he raced around the room, ignoring Mila as he tried to catch thething. Rihan, who’d followed, grabbed Princess Adella, and put her with her nanny, standing where he could shield the two of them.
“I’ve got the prince,” Nesrina called.
Wedging itself, briefly, in a great wooden picture frame, she noted the monstrosity was essentially four blades, melded together at the hilt. With a shudder, it tugged itself free from the wood and continued whizzing about, slicing another portrait, and coming far too close to Prince Ataht.
