Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“I won’t let you weaken or starve yourself because you’re mad. And I do get it. I get why you’re upset. Why you want to fight me on everything, every step of the way.” I took a step toward her. She didn’t back down. Her chin lifted, and I knew she was digging in for a fight, but little did she know, it wouldn’t get the desired effect. “I want you to, Princess. I enjoy it.”
Poppy blinked. “You’re twisted.”
“Never said I wasn’t. So, fight me. Argue with me. See if you can actually injure me next time.” I paused. “I dare you.”
Her arms unfolded. “You’re…there’s something wrong with you.”
“That may be true, but what is also true, is the fact that I will not let you put yourself in unnecessary danger.”
“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I can handle myself,” she retorted.
“I haven’t forgotten. I won’t ever prevent you from lifting a sword to protect your life or those you care about,” I told her. “But I won’t let you shove that sword through your own heart to prove a point.”
She was quiet as she appeared to process what I shared, and then she let out a shriek of frustration. “Of course, you won’t! What good am I to you dead? I imagine you still plan to use me to free your brother.”
“You are nothing to me if you’re dead,” I snapped, my irritation flaring to life. That wasn’t at all what I’d been getting at.
Poppy’s sharp inhale stung like a lash against my skin.
This was not a good start.
“Come. The food will grow cold.” I took her hand, but she didn’t budge. “Don’t fight me on this, Poppy. You need to eat, and my people need to see that you have my protection if you have any hope of not finding yourself spending your days locked in a room.”
Poppy clearly wanted to fight, but in this, she relented.
For now.
MY PRINCESS
Glasses and plates clinked, and laughter and conversation hummed while Poppy stared at the dining hall’s closed doors.
She was not pleased.
It could’ve been the argument before we left for supper, or Kieran’s knowing chuckle when she all but stomped out of the chamber. But what really bothered her was what she’d seen in the hall outside.
What everyone in the dining hall had seen.
My message.
My warning to others that I’d left hanging on the wall.
Poppy had been horrified and disturbed, especially when she realized Jericho still breathed, though what disturbed her wasn’t the fact that he lived. It was that he suffered.
The fucker had tried to murder her. Yet she felt bad for him. That was a level of basic decency many didn’t have when it came to someone who sought to harm them. I sure as fuck didn’t.
And I sure as fuck didn’t like that it made me wish I was that decent.
The things done to me had nearly killed that within me. What had been required of me and still was finished it off.
I shifted in my seat, sipping wine as others at the table talked. My gaze flicked to her plate. Kieran had offered her some of his beef. She’d accepted, but the meat remained untouched. He’d also placed a piece of roasted duck on her plate. I’d added some potato and broke off a hunk of cheese, her favorite. It all remained.
“Poppy,” I said softly.
She looked up at me as if coming out of a daze.
“Eat,” I said, voice low.
She speared a piece of meat, then moved on to the potatoes. I could tell she was forcing herself.
My grip on the glass tightened. I’d clearly shocked her. Maybe even made her afraid of me, so much so that it had dampened the fire inside her. An ache settled in the back of my throat. “You don’t agree with what I did to them?”
Poppy looked at me wordlessly.
I sat back, glass still in hand. “Or are you so shocked, you’re actually speechless?”
She swallowed, placing her fork down. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Can’t imagine you were.” I lifted the glass.
“How…？” Poppy cleared her throat. “How long will you leave them there?”
“Until I feel like it.”
“And Jericho?”
“Until I know for sure no one will dare to lift a hand against you again,” I answered, smirking as those seated at the table listened in.
“I don’t know your people very well,” Poppy said quietly. “But I would think that they have learned a lesson.”
Right now, I didn’t give a fuck what they thought. I took a drink. “What I did disturbs you.”
Poppy’s stare shifted from me to her plate. The non-answer was answer enough.
“Eat,” I insisted, lowering the wine. “I know you need to eat more than that.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I could practically see her tongue sharpening, but she didn’t unleash the swift verbal cut I knew she was capable of. Instead, I got an answer. One that surprised me.
“When I saw them, it horrified me. That was shocking, especially Mr. Tulis. What you did was surprising, but what disturbs me the most is that I—” Poppy drew in a deep breath. “I don’t feel all that bad. Those people laughed when Jericho talked about cutting my hand off. Cheered when I bled and screamed and offered other options for pieces for Jericho to carve and keep,” she continued in the silence as those around us listened. “I’d never even met most of them before, and they were happy to see me ripped apart. So, I don’t feel sympathy.”
“They don’t deserve it,” I assured her.
“Agreed,” Kieran murmured.
Poppy’s chin lifted. “But they’re still mortal—or Atlantian. They still deserve dignity in death.”
I eyed her. “They didn’t believe you deserved any dignity.”
“They were wrong, but that doesn’t make this right,” she countered.
I searched the beautiful lines of her face. Poppy was vicious, but she was still decent. “Eat.”
“You’re obsessed with ensuring that I eat,” she snapped.
There was that fire. I grinned. “Eat, and I’ll tell you our plans.”
That got her eating.
I took a drink to hide my smile. I waited until she’d made some progress before sharing, “We’re leaving in the morning.”
“Tomorrow?” Poppy’s voice pitched.
I nodded. “As I said, we’ll be going home.”
She took a long drink. “But Atlantia is not my home.”
“But it is,” I reminded her. “At least, partly.”
“What does that mean?” Delano asked from where he sat across from her.
“It means it’s something I should’ve figured out sooner. So many things now make sense when they didn’t before. Why they made you the Maiden, how you survived a Craven attack. Your gifts,” I said, lowering my voice so only those immediately around could hear. “You’re not mortal, Poppy. At least, not completely.”
Delano’s blue eyes sharpened. “Are you suggesting that she’s…？”
“Part Atlantian?” I finished for him, eyes on Poppy. Her hand trembled slightly as she took another drink. “Yes.”