Page 21 of Jeweler to the Blessed (Champions of Chaos #1)
I raised my hands in a gesture of peace. “I was just going to show you the key.” I pointed to my bag. “I’m here on Prince Elias’s orders.”
“Sure you are,” one of them replied.
I didn’t need his mocking tone to know he didn’t believe me.
“Ask my guard.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could think them through. I winced at how dumb it sounded. Opening my mouth to try again, I silently cursed myself for not asking my guard’s name last night.
It hadn’t seemed important in light of…everything else.
One of them laughed. “Your guard?”
I held my hand above me to estimate his height. “He’s tall. And broad.” I was rambling. “He has dark hair and a strong jawline, not clean-shaven like the rest of you.”
I was happy my brain had finally latched onto a distinguishing feature. Regrettably, I was less happy when my guard strode through the door next, looking precisely as I’d described him.
He did nothing to hide the smirk on his face.
I silently cursed myself again, wondering how much he’d heard.
Any amount was too much .
“This description is getting good.” His voice filled the room. “Please continue to wax poetic about my jawline.”
His hand moved to his now clean-shaven chin, his finger and thumb tilting it slightly to highlight the angle. “I’m sorry to disappoint. I do have to be presentable with my new assignment.” He held my gaze, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. “But, personally, I like the sound of my guard .”
So, he’d heard all of it then.
I wanted to crawl into the secret storage room to die of embarrassment.
He finally acknowledged the two other guards as he said in a conspiratorial tone, “The possessiveness works for me.”
The two guards looked at him, puzzled. “Who are you?” the one on the left asked.
His eyes locked on mine again before responding. “I’m her guard.”
“She doesn’t have a guard. She’s breaking into this workshop,” the other said.
My guard took another step toward the duo.
I hadn’t exaggerated the size of his frame.
He towered over the two men. “You’re the ones Carver sent to start organizing cleanup on the street, right?
Let’s assume this”—he gestured to me—“outranks you. I need to escort her to an audience with Prince Elias.”
The guards looked chastened at his words. My guard realized that, too, and pressed on it.
“Carver said he’d be out to check on you within an hour. I think he’d want to see more progress than has been made.”
My guard glanced out the window at the street through the hanging plants. Some efforts had started in earnest while I was in the shop. But it didn’t look like it was progressing very quickly .
“Fine,” one said. “But don’t let us catch you breaking in anywhere again.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself. I wasn’t even angry. It was just pure stupidity that needed to be addressed. My guard caught my eye and shook his head.
I sighed, knowing he was probably right. I shouldn’t waste my breath. The two idiots left Alaric’s workshop, and my guard’s gaze roamed the room.
“You look like you belong here,” he said.
Was that his way of starting a conversation about Alaric? Should we talk about what he knew? I still hadn’t decided if he might pose a threat to me like Soren apparently did.
My guard had defended me yesterday, but why?
Hesitation cost me the moment. My guard’s words pulled me from my analysis. “I wasn’t lying, Chaos. We need to get you up to the castle. Elias wants to talk to you.”
My heart rate sped up at the name. Not the prince wanting to speak with me, but my guard calling me Chaos . It was beyond dangerous, but something in my chest thrummed in what I could only describe as anticipation.
“My name is Emberline,” I clarified, deciding not to address the heresy of the nickname.
“So it is.” His green gaze hit me hard. “Emberline Arkova, niece of Alaric, who he claimed was a talented jeweler and nothing more.”
I wasn’t sure why, but the words stung. Of course, that’s what Alaric would have said about me. He didn’t want the royal family or the Blessed to take notice. Maybe since this man was his friend, a part of me had wondered if Alaric had told him more about me. I guess the answer was no.
“And your name is…” I let the sentence hang, unfinished, hoping he would fill in the blank.
He laughed. “You don’t know? One would assume Alaric spoke of me.”
I shook my head, and I swear he looked … relieved.
“We’ve run into each other quite a few times, Chaos. You’re only asking now?”
Still, he used the name. Still, my pulse raced at the comparison to the forbidden goddess. “I don’t make a habit of learning the names of the Blessed.”
He frowned briefly, like maybe he didn’t understand the connection. “I think I prefer My Guard .” The smirk curled his lip again. As much as I wanted to wipe it off, I couldn’t deny it suited him. “Don’t tell me you didn’t ask Alaric who I was after I visited the shop the other day,” he said.
I put my hands on my hips. “He didn’t think I needed the information. Now it seems like I do, if we’re going to keep meeting like this.”
His chuckle was warm. “That sounds about right. Call me Hart. Now, we have to go.”
The name wasn’t what I expected. It suited him as much as it didn’t. It was powerful and held no airs of formality. I wasn’t sure why I pondered it so intently as I followed him out of the workshop and toward the castle.