Page 31 of The Stolen Crown

Gods, how smug he’d be if I recanted.

The man would only use it against me. He’d call me a coward. Not by word, no. Tait Heartwalker did not speak unless forced. But he would laugh at me through his scowls and smirks and…

I blew out a breath and shook my head.

It didn’t matter if this was foolish. I set the arrangement and I’d see it through. There was simply no other option save to defeat the man, so instead of his smug glares, I could grin and stalk past him with my shoulders back.

Mist draped over oak roots like satin threads weaving together a tapestry. The shore was visible from the pathways carving through the trees, and to the other side, sharp cliffs of the Court of Stars towered over the kingdom.

I rolled a dagger in hand, taking cautious steps so I might keep watch on all edges of the grove. It was no secret Heartwalker yearned to sail for the Ever sooner rather than later, and he held little love for me. Doubtless, he’d attack from behind all to end this swifter.

Any moment now I would—

“I won’t take another step until you vow that if you get a scratch on your pretty royal face, the king will not slit my throat.”

A chill prickled down my spine at the sound of his rough voice. In truth, I wasn’t entirely certain if it was unease from his presence or something else.

In haste, I shrouded my expression into something cool and lofty. “Think me pretty, Hearttalker?”

“Heartwalker. And forgive me, I had a slip of the tongue.”

Ass. Clad in a moss green top and scuffed boots, Tait emerged from a shrub of pale blue blossoms that turned toward his skin, brushing their honey-scented petals over his form as he shoved through. An ashen scarf tied off the waves of his dark hair, and those silver rings adorning each of his fingers glinted in the first hints of dawn.

Rather unfair for such a disagreeable man to be so insufferably handsome.

The scowl on his face suggested he was unaware of my gawking and likely unaware of the unfortunate pull toward him that I could not seem to sever.

Tait crossed the clearing until his taller form towered over me. I could not find it in me to mind.

“I’ll ask once more, why do this?”

In a heartbeat, I had a knife I kept hidden up my sleeve pinned against his ribs. I curled my lips. “I think you’re afraid.”

Three hells, I should’ve bit back my taunting tone. Tait wasted no time before he had my wrist twisted, the knife pulled away from his side, and my body spun around, back pinned to his chest. The bastard hugged his arms around me, keeping my limbs crossed over my heart. Trapped.

I shifted and squirmed, desperate to break free. He only tightened his hold.

Tait’s breath brushed over my ear and I froze. “The question is, are you?”

Horrified. Terrified. I was every sort of unnerved. But I’d never allow him to know it.

With a great heave of my hips, I shoved back against him and slammed the heel of my boot against his toes.

Tait cursed and released me.

There was no respite, no time to slow the rush of blood that rose to a boil from his touch, before a battle was waged.

Tait gripped a dull sword beneath the guard, not his typical cutlass blade with gleaming edges. He followed my glare, rolling the weapon in his grip. “To spar with true blades is a reckless practice. Don’t tell me…”

His words trailed off when I yanked free a second from a sheath secured on the lower half of my back.

Tait scoffed. “You are vicious, Princess.”

Knees bent like instructors had taught me over the turns, I raised my elbows and aimed the point of my blade at him. “Seems all at once, you have a great deal to say. If you’re trying to distract me, it won’t work. Or should I take all this filibuster as your concession?”

Perhaps I was mistaken, but there, in the tight corner of his mouth, I thought I glimpsed a flick. A grin. Not one of arrogance. No. Beneath his burning features, Tait Heartwalker nearly smiled in amusement.

Until it transformed into a ravenous sneer.