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Draven grimaced. “Good point. They won’t try to kill you, that’s about all I can guarantee. But spy for someone else in the court?” He shrugged.
I stared back at him. “The servants here would do that?”
“Yours wouldn’t?” he said coolly.
I thought of the Rose Court. “Point taken.”
He started to lay down, then sat back up and clapped his hands. Instantly, the chandelier over our head dimmed to a small point of soft light.
“Fine,” I snapped, seeing that this was going to happen tonight whether I liked it or not.
I knew I could physically try to remove him from the bed... I also knew I’d fail. Still, it might be fun. If I were in better condition.
I could use magic, a voice in my head suggested.
But a picture of Draven turning to ash filled my vision quicker than I could imagine and my stomach churned.
No. Never. I wasn’t going to do that. Possibly not ever again.
I had killed Vesper. I had killed Florian. I had killed those men who had attacked us in Nethervale.
I had killed the monstrous children in Meridium.
But the killing had to end. I had to end it.
Draven might be able to embrace this much bloodshed, but I wasn’t sure I had the stomach for more of it.
Still, he didn’t have to know that.
“Fine. You can sleep here for one night. We can figure something else out in the morning.”
“Fine.” His voice was already beginning to slur with fatigue. “Whatever you say... Princess.”
If he had said “Paramour” I would definitely have thrown a book. Respect for the written word or not.
I stood there in the gentle glow of the room with my hands on my hips as he closed his eyes.
It was as if he didn’t even care that I was there. Gradually, his body relaxed. A peaceful calm washed over his handsome features. One hand rested lightly on his bare chest. I watched that hand for quite a while, standing there alone in the dark as he slept.
