Unbidden, her gaze slid over to him, and she bit her tongue when she noted the fury burning through his eyes. Ruckus’s hands were clenched once more into fists at his sides, a similar reaction to the one he’d had when the Basileus had threatened her earlier.
“It wasn’t a request.” Trystan brought her attention back to him. “We’ll dine alone tonight. In my rooms.”
“I’ve already promised to eat with the Basileus.”
He nodded, but before she could feel even an inkling of relief, he followed it with, “I’m sure your father will understand that I’d want to check on you after the scare this morning. Brightan,” he addressed the tall brunette man over his shoulder, “be sure to speak with the Basileus about his daughter’s new evening schedule.”
“Right away, Zane.” The man, Brightan, bowed low, and then turned quickly on his heel. His shoulders were every bit as broad as the other two men still with her, with defined muscle to boot, but she knew he was only meant to carry out the appearance of a bodyguard.
Trystan didn’t need anyone to protect him; that was painfully obvious.
“There, now that that’s taken care of”—he moved around her stealthily, finding humor when she turned with him to keep her body facing his—“you no longer have a decent excuse as to why you shouldn’t share a meal with your intended.”
Her eyes narrowed, really hating the smug look that passed over his belying angelic features.
“Maybe I don’t want to make your poisoning me any easier,” she stated dryly.
He grinned. “You think I tried to kill you? What, this morning?” At her silence, he chuckled. “What a fascinating possibility. I would never stoop to poison, though, Lissa. It’s a cowardly way to take a life, don’t you agree?”
“No more so than a bomb.”
If anything, her jab only caused his mirth to grow, and he openly laughed. “You’re definitely going to have to tell me how you spent your time on Earth.” Moving backward, he headed for the door, all the while perusing her from top to bottom. Just as he was about to reach the door, he twisted around and called over his shoulder, “Until tonight, Lissa.”
It didn’t pass her notice that he didn’t deny involvement in the attack.
“You shouldn’t be so quick with your tongue,” Ruckus growled, shutting the door with a bit more force than necessary. “How many times do I need to repeat myself on this?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please, as if I stood a chance against the Basileus, or the Zane for that matter. Neither of them likes me very much, in case you didn’t notice.”
“The Basileus is fearful for his daughter,” he pointed out, “and the Zane—”
“Hates me?” She held out her hands. “Yeah, I got that much. Who thought pairing the two of them up would be a good idea again? There’s got to be an easier way to find peace. The way I see it, those two will end up killing each other before the honeymoon is over.”
“We don’t honeymoon here.” He moved across the room toward the door in the nearest right corner. “And no one would suspect Olena of being capable of murder. Which is mostly what the problem is. You are far too outspoken to pass for her. She’s a snob, yes, but no one would ever accuse the Lissa of being strong.”
“Well”—she batted her lashes at him—“they will now.”
“This isn’t funny, Delaney,” he said, and came back, spinning her around and pinning her to the wall so quickly, she sucked in a breath. Gone was the playful man he’d been before the Zane’s arrival. This was the fierce Ander who’d taken her from that alley against her will. “I’ve asked you before and I’ll ask you again. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Of course not.”
“Then stop baiting the people who could easily take your life.”
“It’s fine,” she insisted. “You heard him. He thinks my change in personality has to do with five years spent on Earth, and he wouldn’t be wrong. The Olena you’re describing, the meek one who couldn’t kill someone? Yeah, that’s the same one who did this to me.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she pressed a firm finger to his lips. His eyes widened, but he didn’t try to speak again.
“Would you want to be married off to a tyrant like Trystan,” she asked, “or would you rather be dead? Olena found an option around those two. Pinning her misfortune on me is every bit as bad as if she’d attempted murder. I’m not just the wrong person, aka not her; I also happen to be human. One who knows nothing about your culture or your language, or your planet for that matter. I was just the girl she happened to bump into.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m doing the best I can, Ruckus, but I’ve got to do this my way. I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and thought it over for a moment. It was obvious he was torn between being frustrated and understanding.
“Promise me you’ll at least attempt to be more careful,” he mumbled. “I can’t get you home safely if you’re dead, Delaney.”
“If I die, there’s war, right?” She waited until he’d opened his yellow-green eyes again and latched them on to her once more. “So I won’t die. Wars are never fun.”
He pulled back with a humorless grunt and ran a hand down his face. Sunlight streamed through the window to his right, and his shadow splayed across the soft carpet, stretching all the way to partially climb the opposite wall.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” he said, though it seemed to be to himself and not her.
Still, she frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Got any ideas on how to get me out of dinner?” she asked after a moment of silence.
“No,” he admitted, “but I’ve got a few on how to get you out of that skirt.” At her look, he moved for the right-side door a second time. “I meant, I’ve got a more appropriate outfit in mind. Unless you want to wear that skimpy thing in front of the Zane again?”
She groaned and followed him, noting it led to a massive closet. “Has it really only been a day?”
“An eventful one, that’s for certain.” He started riffling through the outfits that were hung up, clearly seeking out something specific.
“Have you gone through her clothes before?” she asked. Why did that make her uncomfortable?
“I’ve gone through all her things,” he replied. “It’s my job.”
“But you didn’t go to Earth with her?” There was a round white ottoman situated in the center of the room, big enough to seat five. Going to it, she sat as she watched him move around the room like it was his instead of Olena’s.
“The whole point of a denzeration is to go alone. That way there’s no pressure from an outside force.”
“Okay,” she drawled, “but she’s the princess. One who had no say in whether or not she actually got to stay at the end of her five-year trip, so wouldn’t her situation have called for different rules? You on a ship staying in orbit doesn’t seem like enough. I mean, what if the Kints had gotten her?”