Was that what she looked like? A shiver rattled down her spine. The rain plastered his dark red hair over his neck and shoulders, and she could feel it doing the same with hers. It also made her clothes stick to her body, and she was sure he could see the outline of her breasts, her hips, and thighs. And by the way he was glancing down at her, she had no trouble guessing his thoughts.
“Y-you’re insane,” she finally snapped, trying to wrestle her hand away from his, but he held on tightly. The glint in his eyes only grew harder. “Get off me!”
“I didn’t expect to see something like this so soon. The dagger is a bold touch.” His mouth curled even something cruel, something sharp. “What were you doing there in the mage quarters?”
She froze. She didn’t even know there was a such thing as that. It made sense if the library branched out into different rooms and accommodations for research and magic development, but she hadn’t even considered that; wasn’t that what the mage towers were for? But maybe the emperor wanted certain research to be done in the heart of the palace, where it was most secure.
Nikator squeezed her hand, not to the point that it was painful, but close. “You just dropped off from the mage’s training ledge, where they practice flying and levitating. If Ididn’t catch you, you could have landed terribly and shattered your legs. But you don’t even seem to know where you are. What are you planning? And where are your guards?”
Ash filled her mouth. Her earlier predicament came to light again; she would be tortured, interrogated, executed …
She tried pressing the blade against his neck again, but he twisted her wrist and wrestled it away from her, no longer in the mood to play around. She gasped as he tossed it aside like it was worthless. His fingers grazed her neck, and before she could even blink, his hand wrapped around her throat. Not tightly, and not exactly threateningly, but … but the implication wasn’t lost on her. He could kill her if he chose to.
The fight drained from her body. She couldn’t hurt him, she couldn’t chase him away, and she couldn’t stop the inevitable.
The moonlight bathed half his face in silvery streaks, and the shadows of night coalesced on the other side. His eyes appeared heterochromatic in light and shadows; one with a silver, violet sheen, and the other a deep, dark blue.
“I … I was lost,” she whispered, hoping that the half-lie, half-truth, would make her sound innocent. Shewaslost and had had no idea she’d stumbled in the mage quarters, but she hoped he wouldn’t press for more details. She hoped … there was a way out of this. “I didn’t know where I was heading! Please, you have to believe me. I … escaped from my guard. He was sleeping.”
“And what were you trying to do?”
His fingers were still wrapped around her neck. She shuddered as another shiver racked through her body. “I was trying to run away.”
“With only the clothes on your back? Surely, someone as intelligent as you would know to pack and be prepared.”
“It was spontaneous,” she whispered, the lies flowing from her easily. “I was looking for my cat Jade. I opened the door to ask the guard to let her in if he saw her, but then I noticed hewas sleeping, so I didn’t want to lose the opportunity, and so I ran before he could stir! I would have been far away already if I hadn’t stopped to look for Jade! Believe me, please. I have no intention of causing trouble. I just want to be free.”
He stared at her, hard, and she somehow held his unwavering gaze. Her heart pulsed violently, and she could feel it against her neck, her chest, and her whole body—as if it was vibrating all over her, thumping to a wild beat, knowing her doom was near.
She could see it all over his face—he didn’t believe her.
Something wilted within her.
Her lower lip wobbled and she couldn’t stop the shallow inhales that followed, the way her chest rose and fell in quick succession, as panic settled over her.
“Please,” she whispered in a half-broken, half-strangled sob. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to be free from all of this. I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore. I just want—” Sobs wracked through her quivering, cold body. A body that would soon be six feet under, she thought with another fierce cry.
Nikator flinched like he hadn’t expected her reaction, and he retracted his hand from her neck. A look of pure discomfort, shock, and uncertainty played over his face. All in a split second, so fast she almost missed it.
“Stop,” he said, doubt making his brows pull together. “I’m not going to kill you.”
He sounded almost …offended.
Which shouldn’t have been possible. He had murdered her family members in cold blood. He had helped the vicious emperor usurp the throne from her father. He had blood on his hands from the countless people he had killed. He wasn’t supposed to be merciful at all.
He was wicked.
He shouldn’t have cared.
And yet, her tears made himuncomfortable.
Biyu could see it all over his face; whereas he normally masked his emotions, shuttered them out from the world with a mask of indifference, of loathing, of pure coldness—here he simply seemed like he couldn’t. He tried to, he certainly did by the way his expression kept shifting, but the more he stared at her, the more that mask cracked, revealing his discomfort. His revulsion to whatever she thought he was going to do to her.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Nikator said, rougher this time, his teeth seeming to grind together like he couldn’t believe he was wrenching the words out of his icy, dead soul.
Biyu winced at the sharpness of his words without meaning to, because even if he didn’t intend to kill her, he would inform the emperor, toss her to the mages, and be a bystander to her execution.
His face twisted again, his disgust clear. “I will not harm you, princess.”
