Page 48

Mer dropped her head and crushed her skirts with her right hand. She had been, in fact, staring.

More like assessing her target.

A likely story.

Her fingers began to tingle, and the heat from his hand soaked into her palm in a way that was wholly unwelcome but not completely uncomfortable.

When was the last time someone held your hand?

A memory of Ream flashed through her mind. Lying on a warm rock, hands laced together as he smiled down at her.

Mer jerked, blinking quickly as tears filled her eyes.

“Are you alright, my lady?” the king whispered.

“I’m fine,” she snapped a little too loudly.

He squeezed her hand. “You’re strangling my fingers.”

Mer released her death grip on his fingers and got ahold of herself. After months of pushing down her feelings and focusing on her mission, Mer’s emotions were rising to the surface, unruly and uncontrollable.

It was inconvenient.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly, counting her heartbeats. Mer couldn’t look away from their laced fingers. Hers slim and silvery, his calloused and burnished. Her stomach twisted. It made a stunning contrast.

Squeezing her eyes closed against the sight, she let her mind drift. She’d expected the king to lock her away after her performance the night before. During her voyage, Mer had studied the Methian culture. She’d known Methians were conservative in dress and public affection before she’d even taken a step on Methi soil. Goading the king with her shocking dress and blatant display of faux interest had been a way to test his mettle. She hadn’t expected him to play along.

She’d underestimated him.

Something that wouldn’t happen again.

While she didn’t trust the king, she had to grudgingly admit that his principles were more merciful than those of the sea. An attempt on the life of a royal would have been met with a swift beheading. And a public act of defiance against the monarchy would have resulted in severe punishment. So far, she only had a few bumps and bruises, and to be honest, Mer deserved them.

Now that she wasn’t a thousand feet in the air, she understood the king’s actions.

Not that she forgave him for them.

She would have done worse to someone threatening her life or those she loved.

Correction, Merhaddone worse.

Her mind returned to the last Scythian warrior she’d kidnapped.

She finally had a name and place to start her search.

Guilt rose swiftly, but she shoved the feeling down deep. At least something good had come from the interrogation.

Ceto.

The mysterious entity was supposedly in Methi.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye at the hulking king at her side, Mer pursed her lips in thought. While a Methian queen had many duties, they weren’t enough to keep her busy. She could easily slip out for a time without her ladies. And if she really wanted, she could bring them with her to explore her new kingdom. Because what new queen wouldn’t want to experience all the joys of her new land?

King Raziel opened his eye and arched a brow at her. “Why are you smiling?”

Mer’s smile widened. She refused to look away. “Just thinking about what the future holds.”

“Something bloody, no doubt.”