But as fast as it appeared, it disappeared again, reverting to haunting steel.
Loche spun on his heel, taking two long strides before he turned his head over his shoulder and lifted his brows.
Frowning, she took a hesitant step forward.
Only when she was nearly by his side did he start toward the castle again, keeping a half step before her the whole way, not uttering another word as they passed through the gates and walked the stony path to the castle.
Lessia shook her head when he slammed open the doors, immediately stalking off somewhere without another glance at her.
They probably weren’t off to the best of starts.
Chapter
Sixteen
As soon as she stepped inside the castle, Merrick’s deadly presence sidled up beside her.
He’d changed for the evening. Dressed in a silvery tunic that shone as bright as his pearly hair, and emerald breeches that showed off his long legs, he couldn’t stand out more amongst the muted colors humans typically wore unless they were attending some type of festivity.
“Are you trying to make it known to everyone that you’re from Vastala?” she whispered as they walked toward the music and people milling about.
A scoff escaped Merrick. “Humans are too stupid for their own good. They already know I’m part-Fae. They won’t look further.”
“I think you’re underestimating them,” Lessia muttered.
When Merrick didn’t say anything else as they made their way through the dimly lit halls, worry coiled in her gut. Lessia halted, hovering outside the room where she expected the dinner to take place.
“Are you not going to ask me where I was?”
Not that she particularly wanted to tell him, but she’d expected him to threaten her or at least yell at her for the disappearing act. This thick silence was almost worse. At least if he did it here, he couldn’t kill her. Not without alerting the humans on the other side of the wall.
Merrick’s sharp canines glinted in the firelight when his lip curled back in a sneer. “Do you wish to tell me, Elessia?”
Frowning, she turned to him. His eyes were—as always—averted, and his posture tense, as if he were preparing an attack. Or perhaps anticipating one.
His silver hair lay in soft waves over his shoulders like it had been newly washed, and there wasn’t a single wrinkle on his clothing.
Lessia couldn’t stop a shocked giggle from escaping. She imagined him in one of the small tubs she’d spotted in their rooms. He’d probably have to keep his legs out of the tub to even get that hair wet.
“What?” he growled. “Do I amuse you?”
“Not one bit,” she grumbled back.
Gods, he was truly the grumpiest person she’d ever met.
And she’d become very familiar with King Rioner’s other guards.
A chill danced down her spine.
Too familiar.
“You’re already late, Elessia. You’re not off to the best start, and I can assure you our king will not be happy with what I can report. Everyone is questioning your nomination, and if you continue to act like you don’t want to be here…”
Grinding her teeth, she glared at him, and when he reached out to grip her arm, she flinched.
“Don’ttouch me,” she snarled. “I’ve had enough of men manhandling me for today. I swear I will cut off that pretty hair of yours in your sleep if you do.”
Or she might cut off something else more precious to him.
