"Who are you?" Her voice is grumpy as she looks down at her leg and plonks down ungracefully on a mossy log at the edge of the moonlit glade.
"I could ask the same of you, but I haven't got it in me to care."
"Ouch! That one hurt my ego," she says, laughing out loud at my comment, a small hand pressing over her heart. "Cheer up, will you? I've had my share of grumpy men for one day."
She's laughing.
At herself? At me? I'm not sure. It is such an unexpected reaction, I'm not sure what to say back, so I opt for my favourite conversation of all; silence. I watch as she snaps the arrow in her lower thigh, putting the wooden shaft between her teeth and pulling the rest of it out with a muffled yelp.
"Did you poison the arrow?"
“What?"
She looks at me as though I'm slow, and points to the arrowhead on the floor. "Spiky stick on floor. Spiky stick called arrow. Was arrow poisoned? Poison is like a—“
Should've aimed for the neck. "I know what a fucking arrow is, and no."
"Well, the thigh is a terrible place to aim, and you didn't shoot very hard."
I dislike her already. "If I was shooting to kill, you'd be dead and buried by now," I tell her, more than slightly pissed off by the hooded figure. Her head raises in the darkness as I step out of the shadow of the treeline, and I hear a slight gasp.
"Holy fuck! How tall are you?!"
"Six foot eight.” If I had a coin for every time I was asked that, I'd be rich. Rich-er, in fact.
"Ah. An Evergreen? Still, you're the tallest Evergreen I've seen. You're still a fool for shooting me," she grumbles, holding a cloth over her thigh, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. Perhaps she isn't a spy after all.
She doesn't know who I am, which is very interesting. I'm being factual, not egotistical, when I say that I am the most well-recognised face on Yterras. This tells me that she cannot be from my kingdom, the Sea City or any of the field or desert cities. They know me very well there. "Show your face."
Ringed fingers tug her hood off her face with easy confidence. Sultry, cat-like eyes gaze up at me in the moonlight, brown freckled skin flawless over delicate cheekbones and a slightly upturned nose. She’d be beautiful, if she wasn’t insufferable immediately. I spot her small frame and her dull brown eyes.
"A mortal," I observe. Disappointing. "From?"
"The River Folk."
I know when people lie to me, but for some reason, I don't press her just yet. "Trespassing this close to the Kingdom Gate carries heavy punishment."
Brown eyes glitter with mischief. "Aren't you trespassing too then, Mr Hide and Seek?"
I ignore her new nickname for me, but for some reason, I like that she's fiery. "I have a right to be here."
"You work for the King?" She asks, dark eyes narrowing at me.
"I do indeed."
Her features relax a little. She's tempting, and naive too, if she thinks I'm not going to punish her. "Thank the gods it was you and not him. I heard he's an arsehole."
Charming. "I heard so too."
Her cheeks pale. "Oh,no."
"Oh,yes." I shoot back, as realisation sets in on her face.
"You fucking bastard!" She yells, outraged, looking at me as if I'm a complete and utter imbecile. Her arms flail around her as she starts berating me. "You can't just shoot people who come to your kingdom! What if I had been seeking help, or what if I'd just escaped kidnappers?"
"Have you?" I snarl, pissed off by her attitude. The novelty of this creature has worn off quickly. She's attractive, objectively, but she's annoying.
"Maybe!" She protests, stomping a black boot. She goes to move away from me, but my arm darts out to catch her, gripping her hard and pulling her closer. Her eyes snap up to mine as if she wasn't expecting me to touch her. I can smell her from here; an intoxicating mixture of honey and smoke. My eyes linger a little longer than necessary on the soft curve of her neck. I resist the urge to feel the warmth of it, and drag my thoughts back to professional. Her pupils dilate a little, and I want to laugh. She’s just like the rest of them.
