“You know, the note.”
“Does it look like I know what you’re talking about?” he asks, arms wide, his voice oozing with irritation. We’ve had a day, can you tell?
“Ugh, Keller, the note from Lady Whistledown, where she tells you all the gossip of the inner circles. You know, the good stuff.”
His brow creases, and then I watch as he slowly processes what I’m saying. I half expect him to yell at me, to roll his eyes, to slap the table again with that burly man-paw of his, but he doesn’t.
There’s a shift in his expression, almost . . . an understanding. Like we just fell in cahoots together. “Oh, the note.”
Wait . . . what? There is a note?
“That comes in the morning, with the other news.”
“Wait, seriously?”
He drags his hand over his mouth. “It’s called the Informative, though.”
Here I was just joking, and this is actually something that happens? A gossip that calls the shots? Now we’re talking.
“What kind of stuff is in it? Did you get it today?”
“That’s classified information, and until King Theo gives me the go-ahead, you’re not privy yet.”
“Can you give me a hint as to what’s in it?” I zip my lips and throw away the proverbial key. “My lips are sealed. You can trust me.”
“No,” he answers.
“But, Keller, I could really be a vital help—”
“I said . . . no.”
“Well, you’re a freaking wet blanket.”
“Glad you see it that way. Now, let’s go over the lineage of your ancestors.”
I slouch in my chair. “Sounds riveting.”
“Are you paying attention?” Keller snaps.
My eyes shoot up from where I was staring at a precarious hole in a stone. “Uh, yes,” I answer, even though I have no idea what we’re talking about. Day four in this hellhole of a training room and I think I’m on the verge of losing it.
“What was I saying?”
How did I know he was going to ask that?
“Well, let’s see. You like to hear yourself talk, so it’s hard to remember where you were at—”
Smack.
His hand wallops the poor table, which has taken a beating every day with his frustration. He stands from his chair, pushing it out so fast that it tips over and crashes to the ground.
“Jesus, Lilly. That’s the third time today.”
Fourth, technically, but the second time I was able to pull an answer out of my ass. I even impressed myself with my quick flexibility in lying.
“I’d say I was sorry, but I think I need to be honest with you at this point. You’re boring me.”
“I’m not here to entertain.”
“That’s obvious from the number of times I’ve had to pin my eyes open.”
He gestures wide as he says, “This is your history, you need to know it.”
“Do I really need to know the type of steel that was used to make the very first needle Queen Regina used?”
“Queen Regana.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You said Regina.”
I awkwardly smile. “Pretty sure I said Regana.”
“You said . . . Regina.”
“Are you sure about that?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because they do sound similar, and you look tired, you could have misheard me.”
“You fucking said Regina.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, holding up my hands. “No need to get heated. It’s a simple mistake, hearing one word when someone really said the other. Doesn’t mean you need to start swearing.”
His nostrils flare.
His teeth crunch together.
And I actually spot a vein in his neck that looks like it’s at DEFCON 1 levels of exploding.
Oh dear, maybe I pushed him too far.
But for the record, angry Keller is very, very . . . very hot. I think that’s why I keep pushing his buttons because he becomes all growly and agitated and flexy with his muscles. Positively yummy.
“Lilly, I’m going to fucking lose it on you.”
“Because you think I said Regana?”
His eyes snap to mine as his mouth thins out. “You fucking said . . . Regina!” His black boot sails up into his wooden chair, careening it at supersonic speed right into the stone wall and breaking it into two pieces, before he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him, only for it to flap open.
“Uh . . . does that mean we’re done for the day?”