Without another word, he lets himself out into the snow, slamming the door behind him like a child. A noise crawls up my throat as I watch him walk away, down to the edge of the lake and out of view.
My stomach tightens.
Footsteps click over, and then a pair of hands are on my shoulders, turning me around. My glare drops to the pair of pale hands. “Unhand me, Sir Pruinn.”
The silver-eyed merchant smiles jovially despite my warning. Instead of letting go, he drops his touch to my arm and pulls me away from the tiny kitchen and into the sitting area in front of the fire. “Your royal saddle will be back. He simply needs to work off some steam. You should come and rest your feet.”
“I don’t appreciate being manhandled,” I say, though I do sit down on the stiff cushions of the chair nearest the flames. It doesn’t matter that we feed the fireplace day and night from the logs in the woodpile. No amount of fuel can make me feel those orange flickers. I haven’t lost the chill that’s gathered on my skin since the moment I walked out of Highbell.
Sir Pruinn settles himself on the chair opposite me where he’s been reading some book from the inane collection on the dusty shelf. For a moment, he simply watches me, one ankle resting on his knee, elbow tucked on the armrest so his hand can prop up his head. His idle attention irks me. “What?”
His nickel eyes seem to twinkle. “You don’t deserve any of this. Not at all.”
The defensive knots I have tied in my gut loosen ever so slightly.
He waves his free hand around the room. “You should be in a castle, ruling over subjects who adore and respect you.”
“Of course I should,” I reply, sitting up straighter. “I would be, if it weren’t for my husband.”
“He wanted you to claim an heir that wasn’t your own.”
My nostrils flare, shock coursing through me. “Where did you hear that.” Not a question—a demand for an answer.
He doesn’t cower under my command. Instead, the pale-haired merchant smiles. “I hear many things. That’s why you continue to meet with me, remember?”
I sit back in my seat, hating the way the cushion beneath me feels as if it’s been stuffed with straw. I don’t care how long ago this safe house was built, the prior monarchs should have kept it furnished with things worthy of the royals who may have needed to flee here. The moment I get out of this horrible place, I’ll be having it fully renovated.
“You didn’t hear enough,” I accuse. “You should’ve been able to tell me what was happening sooner, how Tyndall used his messenger to spread such violent discord.”
“A couple of days earlier wouldn’t have mattered. The result would have been the same.”
“You don’t know that,” I snap. “I could have turned the tide. Highbell is mine. It’s all I want, and I will have it.”
He leans forward. “You know, there’s another way to get the thing you want most.”
Our gazes clash again, ice boring through magnets. “I will not speak of your so-called destiny reading. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, there is nothing left of Seventh Kingdom.”
Pruinn lifts a shoulder, his clothes somehow still looking impeccable. “Magic doesn’t lie.”
“Magic lies plenty, Sir Pruinn, and so do people who wield it. If you haven’t learned that yet, you’re a fool.”
He’s quiet as he regards me, but I don’t look away from his assessment. I meet it head-on, let him see the steel frozen in my spine. “A queen does what she must to secure her queendom,” he finally says, his hand waving in the direction of the door. “Your saddle might not understand that, but I do.”
“You are a traveling merchant who dabbles in fortune-telling. You know nothing.”
A smile cracks his handsome face, a hard grin split into an indecipherable expression. “As you say, Your Majesty.”
The posturing in his tone annoys me, as if he’s deferring not out of respect, but from disappointment. He picks up his book and starts to read again like he hasn’t a care in the world. As if the putrid scent of fish still sitting in that bucket doesn’t bother him, or the fact that we’re holed up here isn’t any inconvenience at all.
I chew on my irritation. It’s become a tangible thing, a wedge between my back teeth. No matter how many times I gnaw and grind, it’s still there, making my jaw ache with it.
Several minutes of silence pass, and I have nothing to do except sit on a hard cushion and chew.