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He’s sitting, perched up against the clammy wall, his disheveled hair a matted mess that falls into his eyes, obscuring his rounded ears. The type of ears someone might check to see if they were fae otherwise, given how handsome he still looks, even in a dirty cloth tunic and stinking like a pig.
People as awful as Az shouldn’t get to be beautiful.
I mean, I know my record isn’t exactly clean, but the Fates were fair with me and at least made me plain.
“As it turns out,” I say, “the type that concerns you.”
I whip out the key ring I snatched from the belt of a guard, spinning it in circles around my finger.
The grin that emerges on Az’s face is the kind that used to drill a hole in my gut. “Found you couldn’t live without me?”
I shrug. “We all have our own agendas. You just happen to possess more connections than almost anyone I know.”
There’s a twinkle in Az’s sage-green eyes. “I’d be more than happy to help, assuming you know how to use that key there.”
I brush aside the blatant condescension, shoving the key into the lock until it clicks.
Az stands, a bit too eagerly, and wobbles a bit. It’s clear they’ve provided him just enough food to survive.
I wonder if he could even walk out of here on his own.
He steadies himself against the wall, then once he’s gained his balance, takes a step toward the cell door.
I slip into the cell, closing the door behind me.
Metal clanks against metal.
A faint but aggravated smile grazes Az’s lips. “I assume you have conditions.”
I quirk a brow at him. “Whatever would have you assuming that?”
He gestures with his neck toward the door. “Why don’t you get me out of here first? Then I promise I’m all yours. What I can guarantee is that I won’t be much use to you when someone realizes you aren’t Lydia.”
I pause for a moment, still spinning the key ring around my fingers.
“I’m not worried about the guards,” I say. “In fact, I can’t say I’m all that worried about the royal family, either.”
Az cranes his head. “Is there something you know that I don’t?”
“I think we both know that Kiran and Lydia would be happy to see you dead.”
Az stills, the smile still lingering on his mouth, but it’s clear he’s forcing it.
“If they sent you to kill me, they’re idiots. Asha will never forgive them.”
“I know. That is a problem, isn’t it?” I say, shrugging.
“Depends on who you’re asking.”
“Not my problem, at least.”
“You’re really going to betray her. Again?”
“I’m considering it.”
“She’ll never forgive you, you know,” he says, and, to his credit, stands his ground, though his gaze darts to the cell door behind me.
Like he thinks he has a shot of outrunning me.
