Page 7 of Powerful

I can feel his eyes lingering over the length of me and would rather not know what it is he’s seeing. Possibly the sweat dotting my brow, or better yet, the mop of tangled hair falling from its already messy bun. I run my sticky hand down the side of my pants self-consciously, trying to rid it of the remaining honey clinging to my palm.

When he finally looks away, his tone is suddenly serious. ‘All right, I… I need your help.’

He all but rolls his eyes at the sight of my spreading smile. ‘Sorry, could you say that one more time?’ I asksweetly with a hand cupped around my ear.

There’s that mock sympathy seeping onto his features once again. ‘Not a chance. You’re all out of questions, hun.’ Taking a deep breath, he begins pacing absentmindedly. ‘You’re a seamstress, yes?’

‘How do you know I’m—’ My words stop the moment my heart seems to do the same. I blink at him, his features suddenly shifting into something undeniably familiar. My gasp has him startling in surprise, pressing a hand over his heart. ‘You! I know you!’

His eyes dart away from mine, guilty in the way they pointedly avoid my gaze. ‘I thought you looked familiar,’ I blurt before poking an accusing finger into his chest. ‘You’re the one who shouted at me on the street!’

He shrugs nervously, scratching a hand against the back of his shaggy hair. ‘I would prefer to call it constructive criticism, but I can see how—’

‘Well, youcriticizedmy favorite blouse.’

‘And I stand by what I said. It should have been—’

‘Red,’ I finish through my teeth. ‘Yeah, I remember.’

He looks as though he might actually laugh. ‘Well, have you sold it yet?’

I’m unable to look at him as I grumble, ‘No, the customer agreed with you.’

He shuts his eyes, fighting some internal battle that has him blowing out a breath. ‘How incredibly unfortunate for you that they had good taste.’

My teeth grind together, the feeling foreign and full of frustration. This man is, so far, slightly insufferable. I’ve never met someone so completely cold and condescending. It’s impressive, really, his ability to ruffle even me.

The thought suddenly has me setting my jaw along with a new goal for myself. I hereby refuse to give him the satisfaction of irritating me.

And that is why I scare him with a wide smile as I say, ‘So, why is it you need my help?’

It takes him a moment to recover from my sudden shift of emotion. ‘Look.’ He sighs. ‘Someone very important to me just got sent into the Trials.’ His eyes search mine. ‘You know exactly what that’s like.’

‘How do you…?’ I trail off, confusion crinkling my brow. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I was out on the street when the coach pulled up to take the contestants to the castle.’ He clears his throat. ‘I watched Hera climb in before the Silver Savior followed. And that is when I saw you, jumping and waving at her like she was your everything.’

‘That’s because she is,’ I whisper.

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I never got to say goodbye to my everything.’ He spits out the words as though they left a bitter taste in his mouth. ‘Hera won’t make it through these Trials. And that is why I need your help.’

I pair a sympathetic look with a shake of my head. ‘What could I possibly do?’

He steps towards me, swallowing the distance between us. ‘I need to get into the castle and see her one last time. There’s something I need to give her.’ The words tumble from his mouth, urgent and more earnest than any one prior. ‘I know it might sound crazy, but if you can make me look like an Imperial, I can phase through the walls and walk around the castle without fear of getting caught.’

My lips part as shock smothers every other emotion. ‘You want me to disguise you as an Imperial?’

‘Do you have a better idea?’ he counters.

I quickly come to the conclusion that I do not, in fact, have a better idea. Each of my hands finds a hip as I look up at him stubbornly. ‘And why would I want to help you? You haven’t exactly made a good first impression.’ I pause. ‘Either of the times we’ve met.’

‘Well, my charm isn’t for everyone.’ He sighs, lifting a hand to run his thumb over the scar splitting his lips. ‘But I assure you, this would be mutually beneficial.’

I frown. ‘How so?’

‘For starters, it’s very clear that you need… help.’ I’m about to object when he raises a sooty hand, stilling my tongue. ‘Need I remind you of your little attempt at thievery just now?’ He tsks, giving me a disapproving shake of his head. ‘I can offer you food. Water. Supplies. All of it.’

How incredibly tempting. Plague knows I won’t last long without Paedyn here to steal me sustenance. I shift on my feet. ‘And what else?’

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