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He lifts his chin. “I might have returned willingly.”
I give him a dubious look. “Would you?”
“That’s not the point. You didn’t give me the opportunity to prove otherwise.”
“Then I offer my sincerest apologies. Next time I will ensure I offer you amble opportunity to prove that you aren’t always so insufferable.”
Zephyr lets out a snort that sounds very much like a laugh. Natharius shoots him a murderous glare, and my faerie dragon falls silent.
“Besides,” he continues, “that wasn’t the only command you issued today.”
The Void Prince of Pride certainly is touchy about being ordered around, though that isn’t surprising, given his title.
“You threatened to tear Taria to pieces because she mentioned your past.”
“I didn’t threaten to tear her apart,” he says. “I offered to carve the flesh from her bones.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“It isn’t,” he replies. “It is very much possible to skin someone whole. I am willing to demonstrate should you find a suitable subject.”
“I don’t require a demonstration, thank you very much. I’ll take your word for it.”
Natharius shrugs.
“But regardless of whether you threatened to tear Taria to pieces or carve the flesh from her bones, you left me with no choice but to silence you.”
“I will not allow these fools to humiliate me any more than they already have.”
“Taria saved you from humiliation at the High Priestess’s hands.”
“Saved?” he repeats. “She did not save me. Though she may have saved you, she has prevented my freedom. Now I do not know how long it will take for you to die.”
“I’m hoping a long, long while.”
“I am not.”
“No offense taken.”
“How unfortunate,” he says with a sigh.
“Anyway,” I say, finishing the last bite of my meal and pushing the plate away, “you didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Do you really not remember what I asked, or are you just trying to be difficult?”
He doesn’t answer, so I decide it to be the latter.
“Natharius,” I warn.
“Do it. You will prove my point.”
“And you are just proving why I have to order you around.”
He stares at me.
“Fine.” I suppose when he’s this annoying, I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about exerting my will over him. “Natharius Thalanor, I order you to truthfully answer the following question: How many days was I unconscious for? And while you’re at it, I also command you to truthfully answer this other question: Do we have a chance of reaching Gerazad before Arluin and his necromancers?”
