“Very well.” His voice lilted, low and teasing. “If you think you’re so seasoned, go ahead.”
“Where this time?” I drew another arrow and readied it.
“Just the bullseye will do.”
“Hmph. Too easy.”
“Stop stalling, Katherine.”
Fuck. Talk about distraction. The way he said my name in full like that.
I drew a long, slow breath and pulled back the string. As easy as that, I shook him off. He would have to try harder to throw my aim.
I lined up my arrow and exhaled.
Just as I was about to release, a finger traced my temple and down my cheek. I gasped at the resonance humming through my body and the bowstring slipped from my fingers. I didn’t even see where my arrow went.
“You bastard!” I whirled on him.
And found we stood toe-to-toe.
My breaths heaved as I glared. He’d use the first touch of the day against me.
But a slow and foolish smile spread across his face. “Say that again.”
“You bastard,” I said as he watched my mouth form the words. My skin grew too tight under that intimate attention, my annoyance merging with an altogether different heat.
“I normally hate that name,” he murmured into the quiet of the practice yard, and I was suddenly all too aware that we were the only ones here. “But when you say it… it isn’t the same at all.”
I blamed the softness in his voice and his eyes for me dropping the bow and placing my hands on his chest in the same instant his found the notch of my waist.
“Bastard,” I whispered.
A soft sound caught in his throat, humming under my palms as he pulled me against him. His gaze was locked on my mouth, and I found my fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his shirt.
Gods, he felt good. Hot and strong and vital. So many things I was not. We fit together too well for this to be wrong, didn’t we?
We could pretend. It was easier to pretend than have the conversation. It was easier to do this than live as I had the past week.
He bowed his head, and I tiptoed up in answer.
Chatter and laughter burst into my ears, into reality, into the practice yard.
Bastian’s hands dropped as he backed away, attention shooting up to the terrace where we’d entered. A group of recruits swaggered across it, lit by the sun I hadn’t even noticed rising.
“I’ll beat the shit out of you today.”
“I don’t think you could even beat my shit!”
More laughter as they bounded down the stairs. One leapt but landed heavily, a bit like my heart crashing into the pit of my belly right now.
Bastian raked his fingers through his hair. “We should go.”
He grabbed my sleeve and marched me inside.
11
Kat
I didn’t have the breath or brainpower to argue. Also… maybe he was right.
We’d been about to kiss, and although I was a fool, I still understood that was a terrible, terrible idea. Even if it had felt right for those few fleeting moments.
I needed to control myself. However tempting, Bastian was off limits.
He hadn’t even apologised. At least I’d tried to. Getting involved would only lead to more hurt, and I hurt enough.
I needed to get away from him. Not just now but forever. Home was safer.
Eventually, his heaving chest calmed and he dropped my sleeve. After several turns and a flight of stairs, we reached the corridor that housed his office. Coming the opposite direction, almost blocking the hall, was a huge man. His dark grey hair matched his dark glower.
It took me a moment to realise there was someone else at his side—a woman with strawberry-blond hair. Her freckled face broke into a broad smile when she spotted us.
Bastian sighed, shoulders sinking. When we reached them, he turned, but didn’t look directly at me. “This is Faolán.” He gestured at the giant. “I’m the queen’s right hand, and he’s mine. And this is Rose. Meet Katherine—or Kat.”
Somehow, Rose’s smile grew broader. “Katherine.”
Faolán’s eyes widened a touch as he looked down at me, and I realised his lowered eyebrows were more a sign of curiosity than irritation. “Kat.” He nodded. “She’s so small,” he muttered out the side of his mouth.
I couldn’t help chuckling.
Bastian arched one eyebrow at him. “And yet she still has ears.” He clapped the giant on the shoulder. “Rose works for me and for some reason agreed to marry him.”
“Her life was in danger,” Faolán muttered.
Rose swatted him. “But I chose to stay married to you, didn’t I? No danger involved. And as for you…” She pointed at Bastian and narrowed her eyes. Shaking her head, she turned to me. “Anyway, ignore these two. I am so pleased to finally meet you properly.”
I threw a questioning glance at Bastian, but he was still studiously avoiding my gaze. “And I—”
“Rose is going to be your bodyguard. I’ve already briefed her about”—his eyes flicked to my gloved hands—“precautions.”
She eyed us, then peered down the hall. “What have you two been up to that’s got you looking so flustered?”
“Archery practice,” Bastian answered too quickly. “Turns out Kat doesn’t need much of it. I’ll leave you two to your day.” Clearing his throat, he opened the door and I caught a glimpse of Brynan at his desk. He disappeared inside, calling back, “Faolán, my office.”
Faolán frowned from the spot where Bastian had stood a moment ago to me. “What—？”
“Now,” Bastian’s voice clipped through the open door.
“Sorry, little flower, duty calls.” Faolán kissed Rose on the cheek.
As he held her shoulder, I had to bite back a gasp. At the tips of his fingers were claws instead of nails, short and blunt like a hound’s.
Nodding to me, he followed Bastian.
I stared after them. It felt like I’d been hit by one whirlwind after another.
“Bastian… can be like that sometimes.” She winced and gestured back the way she’d come. “I’ll show you the city. I hear you haven’t seen much of it.” Her lips pressed together, an expression that ill-suited her. Her face was made for smiles and laughter.
The city meant venturing out from the palace’s protection, but it might also give me a chance to find out about unCavendish as well as go to my appointment at the Hall of Healing. At least I’d touched Bastian for the day, so I didn’t need to worry about that.
I stole glances at her as we walked through the palace and she explained how the hill it was built on had once been a volcano. Natural hot springs fed the baths in the basement levels and were channelled out into the river that cut the palace off from the rest of the city.
It was only now Faolán wasn’t next to her that I could tell, despite what he called her, she wasn’t a “little” anything. She had to be six foot tall and well-muscled. And it took a while longer before I realised why she put me at （relative） ease. “You’re human.”
She shot me an infectious grin. “Mostly.” She peered along the corridor. We were alone. “Until not so long ago, entirely.”
I squinted at her in question, but asking what she was had to be considered rude, even for non-fae.