He sighs but seems to believe me. He grabs the vines wrapped around my wrists and they practically dissolve away in his hands. Neat trick.
“Sit there,” he says, pointing to a log near the centre of the clearing.
I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow at his bossy tone. “And if I choose not to sit?”
He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Then stand.”
“That’s another point you lose for politeness.” I plop down on the log, wrapping my arms around my knees.
A sound behind me has me whipping around, and I see three other King’s Guards I recognize from the village join us, leading their horses. Shit. Have they been there the whole trip? So much for paying attention to my surroundings.
Grumpypants hands the reins of his horse to one of them, who leads all four horses into the bush, presumably for some water. The two others dump their packs next to the log I’m sitting on, swinging crossbows over their shoulders, and disappear almost soundlessly among the trees.
“Personal guards?” I say once it’s just silence around us again. “Worried I might hurt you?”
Grumpy folds his arms and leans against a tree a few feet from me, hooking one foot over the other. It’s the most relaxed he’s looked since I first saw him at the town square. “Should they be?”
“Judging by my experience with you, I wouldn’t be surprised if this entire forest was filled with women waiting to ambush you with weapons.” I wrap my arms around myself, trying to block out the darkness rather than the chill that night brings.
“Cold?” he asks, ignoring my comment. “We’ll get a fire going in a moment.”
I offer a wry smile. “No, I don’t get cold,” I answer honestly. He doesn’t react, his expression as impassive as ever, and I’m starting to wonder if he’s physically capable of anything other than a scowl. It’s unsettling, the way he watches, like he’s waiting for something.
I can’t resist poking at him a little more, just to see if he’ll crack. “So, do you make a habit of abducting women, or is it simply my lucky day?”
He raises an eyebrow. Finally. The closest thing to an expression I’ve seen on him. “You’re… unique.”
I snort, half surprised at getting a response, half surprised at the response itself. “Compliments will get you nowhere, you know.”
“That’s what rope and horses are for,” he shoots back.
“Well, if you’re trying to win me over with your charm, let me tell you, you’re failing spectacularly.”
He doesn’t continue the conversation. I guess three full sentences tired him out.
Pretending to pick at the bark of the log I’m sitting on, I glance around the clearing for any potential escape routes.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice so deep it vibrates through me.
I feign innocence. “Think about what?”
“Fleeing,” he replies, still leaning against the tree. “You wouldn’t make it far.”
“Oh, please,” I say, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m as swift as the wind. You’d never catch me.”
“Is that a challenge?” He sounds almost amused now. Almost.
“No, sir. Not me,” I say, lifting my chin. “But since you asked so nicely, using whole sentences and all, I’ve decided to stay and keep you company while your little friends are gone. They’re probably discussing how they can leave you behind. They never liked you anyway.”
He doesn’t respond, just keeps watching me with those unfathomably dark eyes for a few more seconds before he pushes off the tree and begins gathering firewood from the nearby fallen branches. The silence between us feels like a test, and I can’t decide whether I’m more annoyed or intrigued by it. I decide to challenge myself and stay silent. All my unanswered questions subside as I ponder the only one that matters—am I going to get out of this alive?
An hour later,the air fills with the smell of roasting rabbit and campfire, my mouth watering at the aroma.
Once it’s cooked, the rabbit gets portioned out, and Grumpy wanders over and hands me a serving. Steam wafts off the stick holding the rabbit meat, stark white against the chilled night air. For a moment, I consider refusing the food. It seems like something someone who’s been kidnapped should do, right? Put up some sort of fight? Perhaps if I’m delivered malnourished to wherever I’m going, that will get them in trouble.The thought does fill me with satisfaction. But not as much as that rabbit meat would.
He sighs and thrusts the stick toward me. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”
Before I can reply, my stomach growls loudly, betraying me. I can’t remember the last time I had a full meal—days, at least. Lentil stew in Janus’s kitchen, whenever that was. The thought of him makes my heart squeeze. Has he even noticed I’m gone? Was anyone there when I was taken? Why is my brain still feeling so foggy? The last thing I remember is standing in the market, talking to Bonnie about the guards, and then… nothing. What happened after?
