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CHAPTER SEVEN

NEAH

Z ennon was silent for the entire duration of the walk back to her room and Neah glanced at her friend frequently, trying to assess what she was most upset about.

Had the assassination attempt finally sunk in?

Surely she couldn’t be angry that Neah had broken into the house, considering she’d then saved Zennon’s life?

Or was it only that Neah had borrowed this gorgeous, frustrating dress?

They’d shared clothes before, so Neah had assumed it wouldn’t be an issue.

Speculation running wild in her mind, by the time they reached Zennon’s door amongst the wing of guest chambers Neah was fit to burst.

The room was nice, clean, though a little small compared to what Zennon was likely used to as a noblewoman.

A large four-poster bed sat off to the left, taking up the majority of the space in the room, and a quick glance revealed an adjoining bathing chamber.

It wasn’t Neah’s first time visiting the guest chambers, but it was her first time taking them in by daylight.

Dark woods and white sheets gave an impression of freshness and the air smelled faintly of cedar.

The effect was pleasant, if underwhelming.

Zennon kicked off her delicate pumps and stomped over to the large window at the back of the room, the only source of natural light in the space.

A small round table meant for one had been set next to the window, the gauzy curtains brushing its edges, and Neah followed the other woman and took a seat in one of the upholstered armchairs.

They were a strange shape, a half-moon whose back only reached Neah’s waist when she sat.

Whoever had designed these chairs had clearly never sat in them—or they knew nothing of what it meant to be comfortable.

“Well?” Zennon remained standing, her arms crossed as she glared out of the window so fervently that Neah peered around her to see what she might be looking at. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Neah blinked, folding her hands atop one knee as she considered Zennon. “Hello, dear friend, I’m happy you’re alive?”

Zennon softened slightly. “Yes, yes, I’m grateful for your heroics—though it is a shame about the rug. I had that imported from the continent.”

“I’m sure the king would procure you another.” Neah’s lips twitched and Zennon scowled.

“Finally. I’m glad you’re done dancing around the topic.”

“That’s what your sour mood is about?”

Zennon’s eyes flashed and Neah grimaced, wishing she could snatch back the words. She loved her friend, but her ire could be… uncomfortable. “Why does the king think I’m his mate? Why didn’t you tell him you were there that night too?”

Neah shrugged. “You could be his mate.”

A gleam of something in Zennon’s eyes made Neah sit up straight, curiosity brimming. “I very much doubt that.”

“Oh?”

Zennon waved the unspoken demand for answers away like she was batting an irritating fly. “What’s going on?”

Neah sighed. “I was at Pembroke’s, one of his parties. I overheard some information that was critical to the king, so I left straight away. I came to you so I could give you the information too, that way if something happened to me en-route to the palace…”

The grim set to Zennon’s mouth told Neah she understood. “And now?”

“Well, I became a little distracted by the assassins trying to kill you,” Neah pointed out, drumming her fingers impatiently on her knee. “Then, before I could speak to my father, I was mistaken for you and brought to the king.”

Zennon shook her head. “Jamison is at my estate, investigating. He’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, I heard.”

Great. Now she would be burdened by this information for even longer. “Someone is going to attempt to kill the king.”

To her surprise, Zennon didn’t seem perturbed by this. “That’s a little vague. I’m sure people plot to kill the king all the time. He’s the king .”

Neah rolled her eyes. “Sorry, let me be more specific. Someone put a price on his head.” There . Now Zennon looked intrigued. “Treason,” Neah said and Zennon nodded.

“Why would anyone risk it? Why now? ” Zennon murmured almost to herself as she finally sat down opposite Neah. “Perhaps it has something to do with this mate, business. It just seems an awful big risk to take otherwise.”

“Yes… and no.” Neah frowned. “The bounty was placed anonymously. It was sheer luck that I came across the information—two of the hunter’s guild were discussing it in rather hushed tones.

If someone is sending the hunter’s guild after the king, then this is more serious than a run of the mill threat. ”

“I agree.” They looked at each other, worry etched into the lines of their faces, before Zennon continued. “But I’m still irritated that you took my dress. I haven’t even had the chance to wear that one yet, Neah.”

“If it’s any consolation, it’s been a nightmare to walk around in.”

For half a second, Neah thought she’d got away with the change in subject but then Zennon tilted her head and regarded her so shrewdly it was as if she could see into Neah’s soul.

“Why?”

Neah knew what she was asking and felt reluctant to answer, even though there was a rational explanation.

“Because I find it’s better to keep as much information as close to your chest as possible.

What people do when they think you’re not watching, that they don’t have to impress you, is important.

Plus, if my presence at your estate were known it might raise questions that my cover wouldn’t allow.

” It was true, even if it wasn’t strictly the truth.

Neah wasn’t sure she knew what that really was anyway—did the thought of being someone’s mate scare her?

Maybe. Did it alarm her more that the someone in question might be the king ?

Definitely. She was a shifter who couldn’t shift. A spy. And he was her king.

Zennon was the logical choice. The better choice.

“Okay,” Zennon said and Neah breathed out a sigh of relief.

“I’ll keep your secret. For now.” Neah nodded even as a sense of dread filled her and the odd and unfamiliar urge to run away and hide rose up.

“But as soon as you’re ready to face the truth, let me know.

Because there’s no possible way that the king is my mate. ”

She seemed so sure. “How?”

Zennon smiled and it was full of secrets. “Trust me.” Neah hesitated but then nodded. “So you want a way to observe him without him knowing that’s what you’re doing… Want to be my chaperone?”

The laugh escaped her before she could smother it. Having a chaperone was a relatively antiquated practice. They were a kingdom of shifters and sometimes passions ran high, and hot.

“Sure,” she said, though they were sure to raise a few eyebrows. “You’ll garner a reputation though. The human so wild she needs a chaperone.”

Zennon grinned and the look was wolfish. “Sounds about right.”

They fell quiet and a sense of peace filled Neah, making her blink slowly as tiredness washed over her. She’d had barely any sleep the past few days and it was catching up to her now.

“Come on.” Zennon’s voice was soft and the pressure of her hand on Neah’s was gentle as she guided her up from the chair and into the bed. “Sleep, Neah. I’ll watch over you.”

Neah was asleep before her head hit the pillow.