Lannahi sat down and didn’t move even as the stands started emptying. Apparently, Nihhal was in no hurry either because he stayed beside her with his eyes fixed on the man in the gray-gold outfit sitting on the other side of the arena. Only when Sarkal rose, probably at the subtle urging of his wife, did Nihhal turn to Lannahi.
“You’re taking this well,” he said, regarding her carefully. He lowered his voice but was careful with his words, aware that empty stands were as much a trap as filled ones.
He smiled at her stubborn silence. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss on it. “Soon, Lannahi,” he promised.
Soon you won’t be able to defy me.
Nihhal stood. He was about to turn around when something caught his attention. “Your admirer is waiting.”
The thought of Ashared awakened her numb heart, but Lannahi didn’t want Nihhal to know how much Ashared meant to her and kept on an indifferent expression. Only when he left did she get up slowly, tired of the stillness and hastened by the realization that others were still watching her from behind the glass windows surrounding the stands.
Ashared sat in the last row with his gaze fixed on her as she climbed the stairs toward him. There was anger lurking in his eyes, but it seemed subdued as if some doubt was casting a shadow over it. Suddenly Lannahi understood why Nihhal had decided to break away from his conversation with Ashared earlier rather than wait for her to join them. He’d known the shapeshifter would be able to smell her fear.
Clever, she thought again.
As only cool determination remained after the fear she’d previously felt, Lannahi reached out for anger, letting Ashared’s feelings reflect in her eyes. So quickly he would abandon her…
“If you want to know what I think of you,” she said, referring to the promise he’d demanded from her, “be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
She must have spoken the right words because she saw his anger fade away into surprise. She didn’t wait for his answer and moved toward the door leading to the Main Hall. She intended to march through it with proud indifference, but halfway to the stairs, she was stopped by the green-eyed ruler of Brasspeak.
“You are leaving so soon, lady? Are you in a hurry to give orders or to take them?”
The cool gleam in his eyes should have frightened her, but it only inflamed her anger.
“You are trying to act like a person who thinks laterally, lord,” she said as he did without lowering her voice, “but your words indicate the opposite.”
Sezar held his breath as did the rest of the fae watching her. Like Ashared, this was not the reaction they expected from her.
“Are you accusing me of falsehood, Lannahi?” Sezar asked, narrowing his eyes.
Lannahi slowly covered the distance separating them until they were no more than a short sword’s distance apart. Next to the towering landshaper, she looked small and frail, but the snake didn’t have to be big for its bite to kill. The man’s tense shoulders told her that he was aware of that.
“Are you seeking a confrontation, Sezar?” she asked.
Under normal circumstances, she would never have risked incurring the wrath of a powerful fae, but now she had nothing to lose.
Nothing.
In the man’s eyes appeared a shadow of doubt similar to the one she’d seen earlier in Ashared, but she didn’t allow herself to consider it. If the landshapers were puzzled by her behavior, fine, but to control her own body, she had to focus onthem.
“Peace, lord,” Ashared spoke behind her back. “Lady can’t accept more Challenges anyway.”
The note of weariness in his voice tugged at some string inside her and the anger that had been driving her began to evaporate.
Sezar surveyed Ashared for a moment. When he returned his attention to Lannahi, he smiled, but his eyes were alert. “I didn’t plan to stand in the way of an angry she-wolf. My mistake.”
Lannahi forced herself to smile, and when the man stepped aside, she nodded politely. No one accosted her again, and after a few minutes, she and Ashared stood in the entrance hall waiting for their Guide. They did not look at each other.
“What happened?” Erril asked when several minutes later, after a flight full of silent tension, they landed on the roof of the palace.
“Nihhal Challenged me,” Lannahi said.
Erril looked at her in disbelief. “Nihhal?” he repeated as if he didn’t understand the word. “But he—”
He broke off seeing Lannahi’s expression. Realization dawned in his eyes. “Fuck.”
Erril’s reaction must have deepened Ashared’s frustration because he lost patience and asked with an echo of anger in his voice, “Who is he?”
