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“If you have a killer in your castle, don’t people have a right to know?”
“It’s being handled.”
He kept his distance as we arrived at my floor. The mood wasn’t right to invite him in. He appeared tense.
“Lock your door.”
“Am I in danger?”
He stepped close, only long enough to murmur enigmatically, “You’re a distraction I can’t afford right now.” He turned and left.
If I understood him correctly, he wanted me to lock the door to take away temptation. I locked it because he wasn’t the only one who needed to say no to temptation. The King proved to be interesting and virile. The kind to make a woman forget herself.
I blamed the new bed for my restless night. I should have taken something to sleep, and yet I feared being vulnerable. What if the killer in that hallway upstairs wasn’t done?
What if the King knocked at my door?
He didn’t, and I woke tousle-haired and hungry. Also late, or so Jrijori grumbled as I made him wait while I washed and dressed. He escorted me to the morning meal, leaning close to whisper, “You and the King appear to be getting along.”
“We are. Shouldn’t be long before I can get him somewhere private for a real chat.”
I ate with my uncle at a different table since the King remained absent. Still abed? He didn’t strike me as the type.
Sure enough, he arrived from the lower levels, slapping gloves against his thighs, his veil dusty with sand. Had he been out early or all night?
He waved off food and strode for me, giving brief nods and waves to people who greeted him but making his destination clear.
Me. I stood as he came to a halt in front of me.
“A good morning to you, Lady Sharia, Lord Jrijori.”
“Majesty.” Jrijori inclined his head.
I smirked. “Late night?”
“Late night and early rising.”
“Poor King.” A man with no name that I’d ever heard used. Did he even have one, or was he born prince and then titled King when he inherited?
“Problems?” Jrijori asked.
“Aproblem, and it was taken care of.”
Not the clearest of statements, especially since I kept thinking of that puddle of blood. What caused it? I could only assume murder. Surely the King didn’t have monsters inside the castle.
“I shouldn’t keep you from breakfast,” I offered politely.
“I already ate. I’m just returning from an errand.”
“Aren’t you just industrious.”
His lips twitched. “Did you sleep well?”
“Not really,” I admitted.
“What are you doing now?”
“Going for a walk.” I once more wore a traditional outfit from Weztroga, the split skirts on it great for moving around, but it lacked my special pocket for knives. At least I wore my special jewelry. Amulet of sleep around my neck, a ring of compulsion on my finger.
