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“It’s heavier than a dagger,” he said against the pointed shell of my ear, sending shivers down my neck. “Use that to your advantage, but don’t lose control.”
He repeated the motion twice more, then released my hand. Only for those long fingers to fall to my waist. His thumbs stroked over the arches of my hips. I had to bite hard on my bottom lip to keep from moaning. But then he stepped back, out of range, so I could move unhindered.
I carefully repeated the motion he’d shown me, slowly one more time. Then fast.
The moment I released the axe, I knew it would fly true. Just like when I released my knives. I was built for weapons. Or rather, I’d built my body for weapons.
I might have no magic, but I would not be powerless.
The axe lodged in the cupboard with a satisfyingthunk, a few inches to the left of where Lyrena’s had landed. I turned my face to Arran, waiting for praise.
He rolled his eyes at me instead. “A decent first attempt,” he said, crossing the room to retrieve his axe.
I reached out my hand for it, but he slid the handle into his belt instead. “Another time. We have somewhere to be.”Someone to interrogate, his eyes said to mine.
I glanced at Lyrena, who’d taken up a post at the door adjacent from Gwen. The latter opened the doors to the corridor, where Gawayn was posted in the corridor. Ancestors above, three of them? Normally Gawayn was satisfied with two, if I was in my own rooms.
The two females stepped forward, ready to fall into place behind me.
They were the ones officially on duty, then. So, why was Gawayn lingering as well? But I didn’t have time to contemplate it; Arran was striding to my side.
“I shall accompany the queen,” he said to Gawayn, not even sparing a glance for Lyrena or Gwen.
If any of them had a comment, they didn’t voice it until we were well out of hearing range.
I followed Arran through the corridors, marking familiar locations as we went. What I’d said to Lyrena was true. The goldstone palace was at least ten occupied levels, plus perhaps a dozen more carved into the stone mountainside and used for various purposes from kitchens to dungeons. I’d explored some on my own, in those early days when I’d first figured out how to sneak out of the water gardens. But soon enough, I’d discovered the joy of freedom outside the palace walls. After that, I was intent on finding ways to get out, not to explore within.
I counted the staircases as we descended.
After the seventh level, I was unable to recognize a thing.
By the tenth stairwell, I was shivering. There were no more windows, courtyards, or terraces. We were in the subterranean levels of the goldstone palace now, in the depths of the mountain itself.
I’d dressed for seduction, not warmth. There was hardly a need for such a thing in Baylaur—at least in the parts I occupied.
Arran paused on the next landing. “That is what you wear for an interrogation?” he said, gaze sliding none-too-slyly over my scantily clad figure.
“I have never interrogated someone,” I admitted. “Do you think the human will find me distracting?”
“I think he will find you terrifying.”
I smiled wickedly. “Good.”
“How much further?” I asked, looking past him. We’d reached a crossroads of sorts. Several corridors branched off from this landing. One was another set of stairs down.
“We aren’t going down any more,” he said, following my gaze and looking amused about it. Bastard.
“Aren’t the dungeons in the very bowels of the mountain?” I’d never visited them, but I was not an idiot.
“They are,” he agreed. “But I knew better than to put him where you could find him.”
By instinct, my hand landed on the hilt of my dagger. Arran’s eyes noted that as well.
“Try it,” he said softly.
Slowly, chewing my bottom lip viciously, I dropped my hand. “Yet you know I am memorizing this route,” I said.
His eyes met mine steadily. “By the end of this interrogation, I doubt it will matter.”
