“Yeah…” I adjust the blanket and glance down at the hot pan of eggs before clearing my throat.
He unwraps the loaf of bread, tears off a piece, and takes a large bite before offering me the rest of the chunk. “Eat. You must keep up your strength.”
“No, thank you.” I cringe even as my traitorous stomach growls in protest.
His brow arches again, and his gaze dips to my stomach before lifting back to meet mine.
“Fine, but I’d love a piece you didn’t slobber all over.”
He mumbles a curse I can’t quite make out before tearing off another chunk and handing it to me. It’s dry and stale, but I’m hungry enough that I’d eat the leftover Taco Bell that’s been sitting in the back of my fridge for two weeks.
“Besides,” I say, choking down a mouthful of bread, “I can’t imagine you knocked on the palace door and asked to get in when I saw you skulking around.”
“I wasn’t skulking.”
“You most definitely were. Skulky Skulkerton.”
His jaw tightens, and his fingers dig into the bread. “I was—” He pauses and takes a deep breath as he sets the loaf and bottle on the table, then pulls out a stool. The chair creaks under his weight, and he looks like a giant in a clown car on the four rickety legs.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
“It doesn’t matter what I was doing. What matters is that you cannot simply enter the palace.” He tears off another piece of bread and shovels eggs between the two hunks. “Four has made certain only those he’s approved can gain entry. It’s a wonder I had to rescue you from a mob and not the guillotine.”
“Oh, you literally mean ‘beheaded.’ Like, head chopped off and everything.”
“What did you think I meant?”
The fire crackles in the silence that follows, and Kane takes a bite of his improvised breakfast sandwich.
“The palace is open only once every six months for the king to hear the townspeople’s grievances,” he continues. “We shall wait until then.”
“But I don’t have a grievance,” I say. “I left my purse behind and, with it, the tarot card. You said the Empress got me here, and I need to find the Empress to get back home. Well, the Empress is inside the palace. I just need to get it.”
“It’s impossible.”
“You’reimpossible.”
The idea that I could be stuck here for up to six months is unbearable. Between now and the next time the palace gates open, someone will have gone into that room and found my purse and the card. I’ll be fucked for sure.
I drop the crust of bread, burying my face in my palms, and I feel Kane’s heavy footsteps thud against the wooden planks.
“Relax, Fawn. I know many ways we can fill our time while we wait for our next opportunity.”
I peek out from my hiding spot behind my hands and look up at him. That sexy smile is back, topped off with a suggestive wink as he wiggles the bottle in front of my face.
I cautiously peer into the bottle’s wide mouth. Herbs bob gently on top of the liquid, their forms obscured by the deep-brown tint of the glass. The brew gives off a rich honeyed scent, tinged with the unmistakable sharpness of alcohol.
“Has anyone ever told you that making a sexual innuendo and then trying to get a woman drunk is really off-putting?”
“I don’t put off women.” With a smirk, he tips the bottle back, nearly draining it in one gulp as he strides to the table. The glass hits the tabletop with a hollow thump, and Kane scoops up another handful of bread and eggs before offering me the rest of what’s in the pan.
I shake my head and offer an automatic “no thank you.” He shrugs, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut over his broad shoulders.
Even though my life back home might leave a lot to be desired, it’s still my life. I can’t just give up and abandon it.
“Well, Kane—whatever your last name is—”
“Blackthorne,” he says, wiping a bit of egg from his chin.
