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I shift in the seat and look over my shoulder at Riot. He stares at my plate of untouched food, the fruit cut to look like I’ve taken bites and grits smeared across the porcelain. So long as I brought my fork to my mouth, no one noticed that nothing was on it. Or, if they did, they didn’t care enough to ask why.
He sighs and takes the chair beside me. “You can’t go all day without eating.”
I set the fork back on the table. I waited for all the ladies to leave, listening to their prattle and contributing with small, useless details about myself when asked. I wanted to be the last to leave so I could sense where the others went. Sneaking around where I don’t belong is harder if you don’t know where danger lies.
“I had muffins. Remember?”
Riot levels me with a glare. “You need more than carbs to last the day.”
I set my napkin on my plate, scoot my chair back, and then stand. “Careful, Riot. If you keep talking like that, someone might think you care.”
He huffs a laugh. “I don’t, but Bash does, which is why I’m here and not one of the other soldiers. Each Lady of the Court is to have a guard with them at all times until the radicals behind last night’s attack are caught.”
My stomach drops and then rolls. It could have been Graves assigned to me. My palms sweat at the thought of being unable to escape him and I thank the stars for small, yet inconvenient, blessings. “Thanks, but I don’t need a babysitter.”
I turn my back to Riot and he grabs my wrist before I can take my first step. “You could have died last night.”
Heat gathers in my chest, my magic stirring. To my surprise, it doesn’t push me to react in a fit of frustration. It settles, letting his hand linger on my wrist without consequence. “But I didn’t.”
Riot stands and my gaze drifts upward. His eyes are a shade of green that can only be found in spring. Rich with deep hues and streams of golden light within. They’d be beautiful if they didn’t hold so much malevolence whenever they fell on me. “Only because Bash ordered me to take you out of the ballroom.”
“Am I supposed to thank you for that? You made it clear you don’t want me in the Culling.”
“I don’t give a damn about the Culling. I don’t want you around Bash.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t think straight when it comes to you!” Riot growls. He drops my wrist and links his fingers behind his neck. He paces a line to the door, then comes back, looking up at the ceiling.
There’s something in the way he said those words that churns inside me. They were hateful and angry, but I also sensed pity. My webs hum as they tangle with a new emotion that confuses me even more than the fact that I can sense feelings now.
Fear.
Riot is afraid, and the only reason I can think of is that he’s afraid Bash will fall in love with me. The notion almost makes me laugh, but then I think about the special treatment I’ve been given. The personalcheck-ins and the extra care Bash showed at last night’s ball. And then there’s our trip to Tarrish, a village I wasn’t supposed to be in, let alone know about. On their own, each incident could be construed as luck, but together, they form a breadcrumb trail that shouldn’t exist.
“We barely know each other. Plus, Bash has nearly a half-dozen other girls vying for his attention. They’re the ones you should be worried about,” I say, trying to convince myself that Riot’s worries are unfounded more than I’m trying to convince him.
“They’re not what he’s looking for.”
“And I am?”
Riot opens his mouth and then shuts it. His emotions are all over the place. I feel them as strongly as if they were my own. Maybe some are. I can’t say anything has gone as planned since arriving in Central Arcane. It’s not unreasonable for some of the anxiousness vibrating through my magic to be mine.
“You’ve stumbled into a world you know nothing about. There are rules and expectations, things we can’t do anything about. Things that…” he pauses. “Aren’t fair.”
“You’re right. I don’t know much about what it takes to be a member of the royal family, and I don’t care. I’m not here to marry the prince.”
I have my mission. Find Ezra and get him out of here. Preferably alive. Anything related to the Culling is happenstance, things I’ll have minimal say in because they fall under the blanket of my cover. If I weren’t operating as a Lady of Bash’s Court, infiltrating the castle would have been impossible.
“Good. You won’t.”
It’s the truth, but come on. Does he have to be so smug about it? “Is it your goal in life to be the biggest dick in the room?”
“Curious about my dick, princess?” Riot’s bushy brow arches in amusement.
I wasn’t, but now that he’s brought it up…
My gaze falls to his pants and, unsurprisingly, I can’t see even an outline of what he’s packing. I figured his personality was making up for something he lacks. Now I know what.
