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“My outburst regarding the mace’s resting place.”
“Not at all. I do find it curious, though, that you would care where the weapon ends up. You were paid regardless, yes?”
“Yes, but…”
Asel takes a step forward, showing he’s truly interested in the answer. “But?”
“I want to make the world a safer place. My weapons are supposed to do that.”
“But not if they’re attached to a wall.”
“Exactly.”
Asel purses his lips together in thought. “If I promise to use it if anyone should break in, will that make you happy?”
“Yes, it would,” I joke back.
“Then I promise,” he says, taking another step forward.
I realize a flurry of things at once. One, I’ve been hunching again, because Asel and I are at eye level. Two, he’s much closer than I originally thought, close enough to touch. And three, what I’d been doing was maybe confused as flirting, when really all I was trying to do was survive a conversation.
He leans forward, his lips puckering.
I step back, rise to my full height. “What are you doing?”
“Making you feel better about the mace.”
Oh no. What do I do? Run for it? Or say something? Which would be less embarrassing at this point?
“No, thank you,” I say, and then I want to slap myself. What a stupid thing to say to someone trying to kiss you. But what else do you say? I haven’t ever had someone try to kiss me before. I haven’t prepared for this kind of confrontation.
“What?” he asks.
I cringe. I probably didn’t make sense the first time. “I don’t need you to make me feel better. I’m just fine.”
“Kiss me anyway,” he whispers in some sort of deep tone that I haven’t heard from him yet. He leans forward once more.
Goddesses. Why is it happening again?
I can’t sayNo, thank youagain.
“I don’t want to,” I say instead. Is that any better? Why is it so hot in here? I feel like I can’t breathe in this dress.
“No one will ever know,” he says, following me across the room as I try to get away from him.
“I’ll know.”
At that, Asel freezes in place. His eyes shrink behind his eyelids as he scrutinizes me. As though he’s looking for just what’s wrong with me.
And I know there’s something wrong with me, but him looking at me like that isn’t helping my state of mind.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, confirming my thoughts. “I made you laugh twice.”
“You were counting?” I mean,Iwas counting, but that’s because no one but Temra ever makes me laugh. And why should those two comments of his go together unless—
Oh.
I see now what all of Asel’s words were meant to do. Not make me feel better at all about the mace but to lead to something that he thought would make his night more enjoyable.
