Page 25 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

“Dig up the past,” I muttered to myself as the royal carriage carried me to the Hall of Talons. “Dig.”

“Rather obvious, isn't it?” The King slid me a smile.

I looked at him. Really looked. “You are unfailing.”

He blinked, his smile falling into laxness. “What?”

“You are unfailing, Your Majesty. In your stamina, your wit, and your . . .” I shook my head.

“Your positivity. It is, well, yesterday I might have called it irritating. Tonight, however, I am impressed. In a way, it is like upholding the law. You remain true to what you believe no matter what happens. How do you do that? How do you keep smiling when I constantly dismiss you? I have pushed you away again and again. Yet here you are, helping me, still smiling at me. Encouraging me.” I leaned closer and narrowed my stare at him. “Why?”

The King chuckled. “I guess I was born like this.”

“Stubborn?”

He shrugged. “When I want something, yes. I refuse to be swayed from the path that gets me my desire.”

I leaned back. “I see.”

“You're upset.”

“That statement is motivating in most cases.”

“But not this one?”

“No. Not when it involves another person.”

“I would think you'd be flattered.”

“Yes, of course you would.” I turned away, returning to sifting through my memories of the Kun-lo case.

“And you say I'm irritating,” he growled before he grabbed my hand and tugged on it. “Tekhan, you can't say something like that and not explain it.”

“I just did.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And you don't know what I mean?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” The King laughed. “Just tell me plainly. I said you could speak so when we're alone.”

“Very well, Your Majesty. What I meant by that is you are the King, and so I'm sure many men would be thrilled to learn that you have decided to have them.

And because of the manner in which you've been treated—by those many men—you assume that all people, men and women, would be delighted by your refusal to veer from your pursuit.”

“Ah. Many, but not you. I understand. You think I'm conceited.”

“That is not what I said.”

“A narcissist.”

“Nor that.”

“A man so full of his own importance that he can't tell when someone is merely tolerating his presence.”

I squished up my lips and cocked my head.

The King paused, then prodded, “No protest on that one?”

I made an ambivalent sound and shrugged.

He burst into laughter.

“I'm glad you're entertained, Your Majesty. Now, if I could get back to solving two murders? Actually, make that five murders.”

“Not quite yet, Tekhan. I am not as arrogant as you think. I know you are tolerating me because you must and you think I am ignoring your rejections because I don't care about what you want. You believe me to be selfish and only concerned about my own needs.”

In a dry tone, I said, “That means the same thing.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Oh, if my mother were here, she'd be laughing until she cried.”

I just stared at him.

The King sighed, his expression going sober. “How many times must we go over this? You've admitted that you want to be with me. You simply have reservations. That is not an acceptable reason to reject me. So, as I have said, I will continue my pursuit until I can get you past your reservations.”

“Yes, yes.” I waved his words away. “You think that because I find you attractive, it's all right to ignore my wishes.

You don't agree with my reasons for rejecting your advances so you ignore them. Oh, excuse me.” I held up a hand before he could interrupt.

“You are trying to work past them .” I rolled my eyes.

“My answer is no. Regardless of my reasons, you should accept that.

But because of who you are, you think you don't have to.

Oh, sure, you say you won't force me into anything, but you won't leave either. That, in itself, is a type of force. You are not working me through anything, you are trying to wear down my resistance. That is a tactic of war, Your Majesty, not romance.”

The King frowned and leaned back.

“Yes, now you're starting to understand.” The carriage stopped, and I glanced out the window.

We were at the Hall of Talons. “Any other man, and I would arrest him for harassment.

But I can't arrest you, Your Majesty. All I can do is ask you to show me some basic respect. Now, will you leave, please ?”

After seeing his unfailing optimism, it was rough to see the King's expression fall, his stare falter, and his lips tremble. For one horrible moment, I thought he might cry. Instead, he swallowed, leaned back, and nodded.

Just then, the carriage door opened.

I kept watching the King, waiting for him to move to follow me. He stared straight ahead. I got out. Turned to look at him. Waited. His knight waited too.

“To the castle,” the King said.

The knight—one I hadn't met yet—glanced at me as he closed the carriage door, then hurried up onto the bench beside the driver. The King continued to stare forward as he rode away. It was the result I wanted. At last. I had won.

So why did my chest hurt so badly and my eyes burn?

Odd. I told myself they were simple physical responses to the loss of pleasure.

I had never denied that the King could give me great pleasure.

In fact, that was part of the problem. So, yes, that must be it.

I had denied myself pleasure, and the primal part of me didn't like it.

It was not an emotional response. Even if it was, it would dissipate quickly, as things of that nature always do.