“Not exactly. But I adjusted, and so will you. It gets better,” she promised.
The vow eased me a bit, but I wasn't in the mood to have a heart to heart—especially not with the person who was about to deliver me to the man making my life a living hell.
I brushed by her, giving her the cold shoulder as I walked out the door.
Jocelyn talkedour entire walk to the castle, barelyeven stopping to breathe. The conversation was one-sided. I didn't have a single word to contribute.
We slipped in through one of the side entrances, strolling down a long stretch of hallway and stopping in front of an oak door.
She spun to face me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “This is where I leave you. So nice to meet you! I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” She grinned before turning back the way we came.
I released a chest full of air that had been caught in my lungs ever since she knocked on my door. She was friendly, but exhausting.
I stared at the door before me. Was I supposed to knock? Just go in? I could just turn and run.
“She's quite the chatterbox, isn't she?”
My body jumped into a turn at the unexpected voice.
The soldier from yesterday came down the hall from the opposite way I had. He met me at the door before leaning back against it, raising one knee so that his foot could rest against the wood. He seemed way too informal about the king's property to be one of his head soldiers.
“Yeah, she is,” I replied.
“She grows on you.”
His eyes latched onto me, and my cheeks flushed as I tried to keep my gaze from roaming down his body. The way his black shirt clung to his abdomen made the task difficult. Not to mention how his leather pants hugged his thighs?—
He suddenly dropped his foot from the door, turning to push it open and holding it for me. “After you.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, forcing myself to enter the study.
“How am I doing?” the soldier asked in a whisper, following behind me.
I paused in the doorway, tilting my head in confusion. “Huh?”
He smirked, his blue eyes lit up with amusement. “I'm trying to be more charismatic.”
My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.
He heard me say that?
My face went blank, and air shot from his nostrils as he tried to fight his laugh.
“How—” I stammered, trying to gather my response. Before I could, I was interrupted by King Hawthorne who appeared in front of me, taking my hand. His grip was harsh, and he did not let go as he led me to a luxurious armchair positioned in front of his desk.
The soldier followed us into the room. He slammed the door behind him, granting himself an eye roll from the king.
“Sebastian, have you never been taught how to properly close a door?” the king sneered as he took his seat behind the desk.
The soldier—whose name was apparently Sebastian—shrugged his shoulders and half-heartedly tried to withhold his grin. His muscular figure relaxed against the back of the door, the size of him preventing anyone from coming in if they tried.
King Hawthorne sighed and shook his head before addressing me. “Are you in a better position to continue our conversation from yesterday, Miss Willawood?”
I considered apologizing for my rudeness in the throne room, but I wasn't sorry in the slightest. “Yes, Your Highness,” was all I said.
“Very well.” He scooted his chair closer to the desk and clasped his hands on top of the wood. His eyes scanned over a map that lay splayed on the surface. “As I'm sure you understand from our discussion yesterday, you are a rarity.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I repeated.
