Page 24 of The Stolen Crown

When I did not see Tobias again, I could only draw one conclusion: he’d been embarrassed and abandoned the hall.

There was a strange collision of hot relief with jagged annoyance. Had Tait been cruel to Tobias? Mocked him?

My pulse thudded in my skull. In the same moment I’d glimpsed Tait’s way, those smooth red eyes narrowed at me. I let out a grunt of frustration. I could not even bemoan him in my private thoughts without his stupidly intoxicating face attempting to distract me, almost like he could bleeding hear my every complaint.

Without much thought, I strode across the ballroom, never looking away from the man. I expected he might move aside or turn away, one of his silent hints he did not want me near, but Tait didn’t budge.

He kept the makeshift shield of his folded arms in place over his chest but never withdrew his attention from my approach. I only stopped my stride when I was one pace from the man.

For what seemed a dozen silent, furious breaths, we said nothing, merely challenged each other with our gazes.

“Ah, good eve, lovey.” I laughed and set my goblet on the table at my side. Swordeater stepped forward, noisily chomping into a berry tart. “Pleasant gatherin’, to be sure.”

For a moment, I forgot I was meant to be angry and glanced around at the delighted faces in the room. “Agreed. There is something to be said about a spritely tune, good wine, and good company.”

A derisive sort of snort drew me back to my previous annoyance. I looked in time to see Tait roll his eyes as though my statement was the most worthless drivel.

I offered a gentle smile to Swordeater. “Although, not everyone here understands how enjoyable such simple pleasures can be, my friend.”

Swordeater sneered at his interim captain. “Be thinkin’ she means you, Heartwalker.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time she thought the worst of me.”

“Nor the last, I’m sure,” I said, never losing the cheerful tone in my voice. “Although, it is your disturbing disposition which drew me away from the fun. Tell me, Hearttalker, have you been unkind to my household guests?”

Tait let out a rough breath that seemed more growl than sigh. “Heartwalker. And I don’t know what you mean.”

Horrid, unlikable sod.

I took a step closer, grin widening. I discovered soon into our forced interactions that Tait Heartwalker shifted and tried to hide his squirming when I never lost my smile, no matter how he grumbled.

“I mean,” I went on, “my dear Tobias approached you, and I fear your cantankerous demeanor might’ve wounded him. I truly hope this is not the case.”

Tait’s jaw pulsed, and for a moment—a tiny sliver of time—I thought it was more because he was attempting to hide a smile. “I’m but a humble sea fae, woman. Don’t right know what ‘cantankerous’ means.”

He was goading me, trying to rile the heat of agitation with his forced tone and words. Tait Heartwalker was rather brilliant in strategy when it came to sailing on the seas.

Naturally, I’d never tell him such things.

I certainly wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of allowing him to unsteady me now. “Well, it is fortunate for you that I often take pity on the ignorant—such as yourself—among us. I merely mean you have a rather unfortunate face that has many convinced you will run them through should they approach.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“And I could not stand it if my dear friend had the courage to approach—though I don’t know why he would—and you hurt him instead,” I rambled on without a pause.

“As I said, always thinking the worst of me.”

“Well, you make it so simple.”

Tait frowned. “I said nothing but a refusal to dance with the man. And I did it in such a way even the heathens of the Ever Kingdom would be awed by my politeness.”

Unbridled rage lived in his words, and I didn’t understand it.

I popped one shoulder in a shrug. “You really shouldn’t speak so poorly of your own people.”

“And you needn’t trouble yourself with monitoring my manners, Vicious.”

“What did you call me?”