“Do you plan on pressing that to my throat again?” Kai’s lips twitch upwards as he inclines his head toward the dagger clutched in my fist.
“Don’t tempt me,” I say, running my fingers across the smooth, flat edge of the blade. “Here for a rematch?”
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his slim, dark pants before crossing his ankles and leaning against the door frame. “Don’t tempt me.”
Ebony hair falls over his forehead, making his gray eyes pop against the inky waves. It’s clear he hasn’t shaved, leaving a shadow of stubble covering his sharp jaw, only emphasized by the darkening bruises I left there.
“What do you want, Azer?”
“Missed you too, Gray,” Kai says, casually picking something from his distractingly thin shirt. Then his gaze snaps to mine, his long lashes in total contrast with his light eyes. “I’m here for your lesson.”
I scoff. “I’m sorry, my what?”
“Your lesson.” He cocks his head to the side, amusingly puzzled. “You’re Psychic. Did you not sense this was coming?”
“That’s not how it works, and you know it,” I say, my tone a combination of irritation and confusion. “What are you talking—”
“So, you were really going to go to the ball and step all over my brother’s toes, then?” He huffs out a laugh. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“No, I wouldn’t step all over his toes. Maybe trip over my own but...” I trial off, watching his grin grow. His dimple mocks me, tempting me to use the dagger waiting patiently in my palm.
And then his words finally sink in.
“Dance lessons? That is why you’re here?” I let out a breathy laugh, thinking he must be joking.
“Took you long enough.” He pushes off the door frame, taking a step closer. “Come on, we don’t have all night.” Then he smirks. “Unless you want us to be out all night.”
I don’t budge. “Nope. No way. I don’t want or need your help.” I give him a mocking smile. “But it’s good to know that you are always so eager to offer it.”
I grab the edge of my door and begin shutting it on him when he wedges a shiny shoe into my room. He easily pries the door open, his strong arms pushing it back despite my best efforts. With his hand still flat on the wood, he leans in close enough to murmur, “Just like always, you’re too stubborn to admit that you need my help.”
“What I need is for you to get out of my room.” I’m smiling at him but it’s all teeth.
And yet, with every word that says otherwise, I know he’s right. I know I should take him up on his offer and practice to prevent making a fool out of myself beside the future king. But I don’t like that he can hold this over my head, don’t like that he would be helping me. Again.
“What you need and what you want are two very different things.” The scent of pine washes over me when he ducks his head close to mine, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Come on, Gray, you’re smarter than this. You know that you need to make a good impression at this ball. And next to my brother, there will be a lot more eyes on you than there already normally are.”
It’s like he read my thoughts, summed them up, and spit them back at me. I glare at him. I know he’s right, and he knows it too.
He must see the fight leave my eyes because a smile twists his lips. “Good to see you’ve come to your senses. Let’s go then.”
I brush past his shoulder with my head held high. I chose to do this, not him, and he needs to remember that. “Where are we going?” I ask as he begins leading me down the hallway. At the end of it, we climb a wide spiral staircase draped in velvet, emerald carpet.
The shadow of a smile settles on his face. “Somewhere with enough room for you to fall all over the place.”
When we reach the top of the stairs, I’m led down a wide hallway lined with paintings and pearly molding clinging to the walls and ceiling. My eyes sweep over the thin layer of dust covering the frames littering the wall.
It has been a while since anyone’s been up here.
This floor happens to be one of the few that I haven’t yet explored, seeing that I’ve crept out of my room multiple times in the dead of night to learn the layout of the castle and its possible exits. Call it my personality or paranoia, but being unaware of my surroundings scares me nearly as much as the Trials.
Since Lenny doesn’t guard my door, I can’t resist the urge to snoop. In fact, I don’t see my Imperial much at all, and surprisingly, the thought sends a sudden jolt of sadness through me. I’m shocked by how much I genuinely enjoy his company and even more shocked by the fact that I would think such things about an Imperial.
An uneven rug catches my foot, sending the floor flying towards my face. I’m about to sprawl onto the spiral-patterned rug when an arm slides around my middle, firm and feeling annoyingly familiar.
“There’s that clumsy footwork we’re trying to rid you of,” Kai says, the smirk evident in his voice. He sets me on my feet, steadying me with a hand that I push away, flustered and feeling the need to put some space between us.
He holds his hands up and takes a mocking step back before turning to head down the hall once again. As we continue walking, the question I’ve been waiting to ask finally slips past my lips. “Why are you doing this?”
Kai halts in front of me. He turns slowly, looking almost amused by the question. “It’s simple, really. You’re attending this ball with my brother, and he needs to look the best he is able.”
I study his face, stare as a sliver of his mask cracks, displaying all the love and devotion for his brother, all the lengths he is willing to go for him. It’s as if he has a duty to fulfill, as if he is already the Enforcer and this is far bigger than just stopping me from stepping on his brother’s toes.
And then his mask is suddenly back up, and I’m staring at that cool face once again, void of the emotion once there. When I can’t think of a retort, I begin walking instead. We make a right down a smaller corridor and head to the very last door on the left. He grips the handle and swings it open, revealing a bedroom beyond, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window.
If I thought my room was magnificent, it pales in comparison to this. It’s easily twice the size of my own, making it seem more like a house than a single bedroom. Though it’s filled with a four-poster bed, dresser, and a desk—just as mine is—this room seems lived in. The shelf is overflowing, books stacked at odd angles to make them fit. Several of their worn covers tell me they consist of strategy, combat, and...poetry.
Interesting.
Everything filling the room is nicer than my own, yet used and worn.
This is his room—his real room.
The desk is covered in dark ink stains, and suits of armor are piled in the corner. My eyes scan over the large slices covering the posts of the bed where chunks of dark wood are missing.
Sword slashes.