Page 95

He didn’t say anything.

“Oh, I see. You can question me, but I can’t question you? How about this one. Who was I to you?”

Adrian looked panicked. His silence deafening.

I found myself irritated by his company. “Best friends don’t flirt, Adrian.”

“No?”

“No.”

“The old Bryn indeed flirted.”

I shoved past him. “You’re infuriating!”

His laughing echoed behind me. “I’ll just finish collecting the eggs, then,” he called out.

I flipped him my middle finger as I stormed away from him and toward the manor.

His laughter followed me all the way home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

BRYN

Iavoided Adrian like the plague for as long as I could. But my luck ran out by dinnertime when I was seated next to him and having to try my hardest not to punch him in the throat.

As much as he bothered me, what really bothered me was why past-life Bryn would be flirting with her and her betrothed’s best friend.

Flirting in private, no less, because Adrian had been on his best behavior in front of the king each time Leo had been around. It was during the times when we were alone that his eyes would linger on me for too long, or he’d find a way to touch me, seemingly innocently.

I mean, he’d caught Leo and me out of sorts from our entanglement on the rooftop at the castle and had hardly batted an eye. So why was Adrian acting this way toward me now?

I thought through everything Adrian would stand to gain if Leo and I weren’t to have a relationship. But I couldn’t come up with anything plausible.

It didn’t make sense. Leo had been fighting for me. With Aaron. The Deks. The Nine.

And what had Adrian been doing? Being an asshole for most of the time I’d known him, that’s what. So, what was his endgame?

I glared at him, wishing I had his fire magic to set him aflame.

He must have felt my imaginary flames because he turned to me and winked, taking a large bite out of the green bean on his fork, the snapping sound setting my teeth on edge.

Then he continued to talk to my parents, as if I weren’t even there.

The guy even had my parents fooled. He was one arrogant son of a⁠—

“Are you okay, dear?” My mother looked at my plate. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”

I tried to relax my grip on my silverware, particularly the butter knife I held. My only desire was to stab it into Adrian’s thick thigh.

“Just nerves for tomorrow,” I lied through my teeth.

The side of Adrian’s mouth quirked up, like he knew exactly what was really eating at me.

“Understandable,” said my father. “But remember, you’ve done it once before. You can do it again.”

I nodded, letting the conversation carry on without me, and tried my hardest to eat as much as I could. I would need my strength for tomorrow.