My head lightened, threatening to float off my shoulders. I stepped out from behind the tree, my hand falling from my knife.
Ky glanced up. “Oh, lioness, I didn’t see you there. Would you care to pet him? He smells repugnant, but he makes up for it with sheer enthusiasm, at least.”
“You’re not...going to kill him?”
“Kill him?” He looked affronted. “Of course not. Who would kill an innocent dog?”
A creeping heat suffused me. Shame or relief—I couldn’t untangle the two.
“Except that bloodthirsty old fossil you call a seneschal,” he continued. “Who, by the way, you should tell to go fuck himself next time he speaks to you that way. I can’t remember the last time someone’s made me so angry.”
A spiky laugh fled my lips. Gods among us, how could I have suspected him of being a killer? Even for a moment? He wasn’t. Clearly. He was just...him. A cocky prince. A man who knew himself so thoroughly that the nightmares couldn’t touch him, who disliked the seneschal’s attempts to control me just as much as I did.
“You know, Ihavetold Olivian that,” I said. “Many times. But he’s strangely immune to insults. Kind of like someone else I know.”
“Well.” Ky dusted his hands and stood. The puppy dashed into the underbrush, apparently having gotten its fill of cheese and attention. “In that case, I’ll tell him myself. A royal command to go fuck oneself isn’t to be taken lightly.”
My heart melted like warm butter. This silver-tongued devil. “Ky. I have...something I should tell you. Something I got wrong.”
He came toward me, his eyes gleaming lilac in the swamp-glow. “What is it?”
“I—”
A branch cracked. Our heads whipped around.
The bracken rustled, and Vick emerged, his shortsword in his hand. I frowned. What washedoing here?
Ky’s expression closed up. “Oh. It’s you.”
Vick studied the span between our bodies as if mapping its exact dimensions, itsmeaning. He didn’t say anything.
Ky expelled a sigh. “Feel free to open that delightful mouth of yours at any moment. And Harlowe knows you’re not from Hightower, so you can lose the terrible accent.”
Vick surveyed me for so long that my pulse ticked up. What did he plan on doing with that sword? Moreover, why did Ky sound so chilly?
“What’d you do with the dog?” Vick finally said. “Is it dead?”
I recoiled at hearing an Oceansgate accent come from his mouth. I’d known, but still. He suddenly seemed like a different person. One that set my teeth on edge, even more so than before.
“I let it go.” Ky sniffed. “Though I’ll thank you not to share that with the seneschal. Now, why don’t you run along? I was about to have a word with my wife.”
Vick laughed, as if the princely request carried no weight at all. “I’m sure youwereabout to have a word. Among other things.”
My skin tightened. There was something wrong about the way he was talking. As if to an overbearing parent, not royalty. And whileIfelt entitled to direct my impudence at the prince—I’d married him, after all—outrage scorched my throat when Vick did it.
Which probably didn’t make much sense, but whatever. I’d never claimed to be rational.
Ky’s look turned flinty. “What I do with my wife is none of your concern.”
“Oh, but it is. We had a deal, or don’t you remember?”
I stiffened. A deal? What deal?
Ky glowered. “It would be difficult to forget.”
“Good. See that you don’t.” Vick sheathed his blade with effortless competence. Clearly, he could do some damage with that thing, if he wanted to. “Oh, and Ky?”
“What?” The word came out as a hiss.
