Page 39 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“I would ask why?”

You’re the son of my father’s enemy, and I’ve possible entered your game.

But there was something else that bothered me more. “Usually, I do not let men speak this much to me before bedding me, it is afterwards they confess. But you have confessed before, which troubles me because that leads me to think you might have feelings and I have a strict rule of not messing with what I cannot understand and certainly not respond to.”

His face drew in disappointment as he said, “You are too sure.”

“Because I know myself too well, Elias.”

“Am I getting rejected?” he asked playfully.

“Just sparing you and myself a messy parting when I head to marry my nightmare.”

He swallowed, eyes darted lost about the room. “If I said that I have no wish to give up?”

“I’d say that is ridiculous, but if you will bear the consequences of disappointment silently, I have no issue.”

He chuckled shortly, cocking his head back on the shelf intently staring at me. “This is why I like you, raven, you’re not afraid to nail a dagger in a man's heart,” he said as his satisfaction grew. “I’ve never met someone like you, so charming, feisty, fearless and beautiful.”

I sighed, annoyed. These types of confessions usually marked the moment I fled from someone. “You have known me for three seconds.”

He shook his head. “Just because you have only seen me now doesn’t mean I have not seen you before. You caught my eye since you were a girl not a woman, that is what I can say differently from all the other men.” He leaned back on the bookshelf and smiled widely. “You have not changed at all, truly.”

I crossed my arms and cocked a brow up at him. “Should I be offended?”

“Did you know Renick still rubs that bald patch in his head that you tore from his scalp during that Yule diner every time your name gets mentioned?”

At the mention of that writhing memory, my gaze dropped to the ground. “I should have torn his head for what he said, and stuffed it up his arse so all shit could be in one place.” My body still shivered at the memory of the words he had uttered in my ear that night.

Once your sister is plump enough, I’ll make the bitch a woman.

His smile faltered, eyes lingering softly over me. “You should have. I should have, for all that beast has done to you.”

“I suppose you are in my debt.”

“For all my life,” he swore. I felt the sincerity in his hardened features.

“Good to know, Elias Venzor, heir of Venzor. Good to know you are in my debt.” I reached up planting a kiss in his cheek before leaving.

* * *

Father laughed himself to tears when he read the report on the trial I directed in Arynth. For a short fluttering moment I might have seen a splint of pride there.

You will go again, come back with something entertaining, he had said and handed me orders to attend six more trials and plenty of time to study Adriata.

Arynth once more, the city walls were safer than a mountain range and there clearly was no war coming this way for the amount of guarding my father had assigned his guards to partake, which I suppose had come in fear of what had happened twelve years ago.

This time an Isjordian had been caught crossing their borders. If I could not stand something it was traitorous vermin, for whatever reason he had done such a thing it was still more than unacceptable according to my rule book.

Nia had chosen to still stay back, neither I or Cai had protested, still she was more wanted in Tenebrose than with me. I did have a spy within my father’s servants, no, I had many and Nia overlooked all of them. Isjordians tie with coin was not exactly tight, but there was better payment and threatening means, secrets. Isjordians had heaps of them, and none too far from sight for Nia’s abilities to dig them out.

Lord of Arynth waited for us this time, I had taken a like to him since our last visit. He took upon himself to explain why the man had crossed their border, which left me infuriated and murderous.

The Zone of Peace stood eerie as usual, the same woman soldier as last time, Nesrin, was present this time accompanied by a tall dark-haired giant, a scary sight to behold. He had the face of a troll, body of a rock and the halo of an ancient oak.

The Isjordian crosser sat kneeling on the ground hands tied to his front, refusing to lift his head to meet our gaze.

The Adriatians bowed their heads greeting us. “This time one of your own,” Nesrin exclaimed without hesitation, as though she had me wrapped around her hand.