Page 50 of Powerless

I can practically see Gail relax, probably thanking the Plague that formalities aren’t needed. “Now, what is a sweet girl like you doing hanging around riffraff like him?” Gail jabs a thumb in my direction while I snatch a strip of bacon from the pan behind her turned back.

I let out a low laugh. “Oh,sweetisn’t the word I would use to describe her, Gail. She held a knife to my throat only a few days ago.”

“He deserved it,” Paedyn says simply, shrugging slightly.

“Oh, I’m sure he did,” Gail replies, grinning at her. “I probably would have done the same.” She glances at me, nodding towards Paedyn. “I like this one.”

Paedyn tips her head back and laughs. My body goes still as I listen to the sound of it fill the kitchen. So warm, so bright. Then, too quickly, she collects herself, clears her throat, and turns towards me. “So, you and Kitt are close with Gail?”

My head tilts to the side as I peer down at her, my eyes never straying from hers as I say, “Inseparable, aren’t we Gail?”

A loud snort escapes the cook. “Inseparable indeed. The princes won’t leave me alone.” Her eyes sparkle with pride when they meet mine. “I’m the only reason the two of them aren’t stick-thin.”

“Ah, yes,” I sigh, “we have Gail’s sticky buns to thank for fattening us up.”

After Gail gladly informed Paedyn of some rather embarrassing stories from my childhood, we talk casually, a regular routine for the cook and me. I ask about her son, stationed as a guard near the Scorches, all while sneaking bits of food as she swats at my hands. My gaze snags on Paedyn from where she watches me curiously, as though trying to puzzle me out.

Funny, normally I’m the one giving her that look.

I jump off the counter and give Gail a peck on the cheek. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Then I turn towards Paedyn who’s leaning casually against the counter, a small smile tugging at her lips. I take a slow step towards her. Her head tips up to look me in the eyes as I close the distance between us, so close I can smell the lingering scent of lavender on her skin. I reach around her back, fingers brushing her tank.

Her breath hitches and I feel my lips tug upward. When she opens her mouth to tell me off, I pull my hand back slowly, holding an apple in front of her face. “Always feeding you, remember?”

She stares at the fruit before snatching it from my hand, huffing in annoyance. And then she smiles, the dazzling action lighting up her face as she rubs the apple on my shirt, right above my heart.

She takes a bite, her eyes locked with mine. “And you said you weren’t a gentleman.”

* * *

By the time we make it to the training grounds, I’m slicked with sweat once again.

Almost in unison, several of us peel off our shirts, unable to bear the heat any longer. Kitt and I set off jogging around the grounds at an easy pace. I watch as the contestants pair off to spar or go their separate ways to train. Andy is currently in the form of a red leopard, circling several Sadies in one of the dirt training rings. Unsurprisingly, Braxton is on the ground doing push-ups while Jax occupies himself by throwing rocks as far as he can only to Blink and catch them before they hit the ground.

Finally, my traitorous eyes slide towards a flash of silver hair. She’s beating on that padded tree, per usual. She always does this. Her movements are quick, controlled, channeling an emotion I can’t place. She spins suddenly, her arm raising before I see her wrist flick. I blink and a knife sinks deep into a tree ten yards away.

Practiced. Purposeful. Precise.

But I’m not the only one watching. Kitt’s gaze is locked on her, almost curiously. I clear my throat and pick up our pace. “So, how are you feeling?”

Kitt’s head whips towards me. “At the moment? Tired.”

I laugh at that, hitting him lightly in the stomach. “Yeah, you’re getting out of shape, Kitty.”

He shoves me at the mention of his childhood nickname. “Well, I don’t exactly have a reason I need to be in shape, do I?”

Though he says this jokingly, I don’t miss the bitter edge in his voice. I sigh, already knowing what this is about. “You know why you can’t.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t,” I mutter. “Kitt, you’re the next king of Ilya. We need you alive. The Trials are no place for you.”

Shit.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they’d struck him like a physical blow.

“Is my own kingdom no place for me either?” His laugh holds no humor. “Hell, is anywhere outside of the castle not safe enough for the heir?”

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