Her responding laugh grated on my nerves. “You’re hilariousss. Let’sss go.” She yanked me away from Adrik’s side with a force that would have tripped me had I not been quick on my feet.
For a petite female, she was certainly stronger than she appeared. But I could easily overpower her. Alas, we’d already drawn the attention of many of our attendees, leaving me with no choice but to obey her in this foolish little charade.
She clearly disliked me almost as much as I disliked her, yet we were both bound by this agreement. Although, I suspected she wasn’t as eager to dissolve it as I was. Her family stood to gain by the proposition. They were sorely lacking in resources, while Noxia had them in abundance, making it a worthwhile investment on her part to joi
n our kingdoms.
I still failed to see my benefit in all of this.
Other than to produce the requisite heir.
Which required me to fuck this sea creature. I’d gotten it up in several unlikely situations, yet something told me no amount of drugs would help me with her.
“You’re scowling,” she chided at some point during our third or fourth dance. Maybe it was number five? I’d lost count when I fell into my thoughts and went through the motions of trying to ignore her vile presence.
“Am I?” I didn’t bother fixing it, nor did I attempt a smile.
My mother glowered at me from the sidelines, clearly disapproving of my behavior. She would call me a petulant child later, and I’d accept the accusation because, yes, I was acting like one. This archaic practice of—
“You bitch!” a male bellowed from the shadows, causing the crowd to quiet. “What the fuck is your problem?” he shrieked and jumped into the light, displaying a series of claw marks down the side of his face. “You’re fucking crazy!”
Yakariah, I recognized. A visiting demon from Nova Kingdom.
Zaya leapt after him, her expression contorted into a mixture of fury and horror, her eyes nearly black with rage. She went for the male again, this time with a knife she pulled from beneath her skirts, and the demon jolted backward with his hands up.
“Look, all I wanted was a dance,” Yakariah said.
“You wanted more than that, just like the night you attacked me,” Zaya replied, her steps measured and lethal, exactly the way I’d taught her.
Only, she’d chosen the wrong male to target.
Because I knew Yakariah and he had nothing to do with her assault. He’d been stationed away from the palace as a guard at the border between Noxia Kingdom and the former Caluçon Kingdom—now known as Nova.
So either Zaya was doing this to piss me off or Yakariah had done something to trigger a memory. I truly hoped it was the latter, or I’d have to punish her. And that prospect didn’t sit well with me.
I pushed Napia away from me, earning me a series of hisses from her headdress, but I ignored her and her pissed-off snakes, my focus on the lethal little warrior dancing toward her perceived mark.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yakariah stuttered.
“Don’t you?” Zay asked, managing to sound innocent and deadly at the same time. “I remember your scent, the way it curled around me while you—”
“Zaya,” I interjected, a hint of demand in my voice as I stepped between her and her target. “Give me the knife.”
Her gaze flashed up to mine, a flicker of hurt and annoyance mingling for purpose in her still-black irises. “What?”
“Give me the knife,” I said again, infusing power into my tone—power meant to subdue. I never invoked compulsion on Zaya, despite it being a natural inclination as a result of our blood bond. I was very aware of the potential negative impact on her due to her traumatic experience.
Alas, I had no choice in this instance. She’d already drawn a crowd, and if she attacked, her punishment would be much more severe than a little hypnosis.
She stepped forward, then shook her head as if to clear it, the glazed quality of her eyes slicing off a piece of my heart.
I felt the stares of our audience, knew what they were all thinking—Zaya had attacked a guest. And not just any guest, but a visitor from another kingdom.
She blinked again, her own mind fighting for control.
“Now, Zaya,” I told her, twisting a little more dominance through the words, urging her with my mind to comply.
She finally did, her expression glazed as she handed me the knife.