Page 31 of Flirting with Darkness

“Why?”

He turned his back and paced, and I got the distinct impression that he wasn’t really talking to me anymore.

“I’m upset because they won’t take no for an answer. Because I’m not doing this. I’m not going back to Obitraes. I’m not going to help put some—” His lip curled. “Some nobody on my throne. I’m not going to lead another losing war. I am not going to do any of those things, mouse. Not a single one of them.”

I looked to the letter in his hand. Now completely crushed in his fist.

He let out a long breath and straightened. “I’m—I apologize.” He seemed a little embarrassed. But he shouldn’t have been. I didn’t mind seeing him with his guard down.

“Is that what that says?” I said. “They’re asking you to return to the House of Night?”

“Yes, and it doesn’t seem to matter that I’ve told them no many times over.”

“So, why do they keep asking?”

He let out a light scoff. “Because no one else would help.”

“Because the top two generals in the House of Night are dead.”

Vale blinked, mouth tightening with an almost-smile. “Yes. But just as well, because those bastards wouldn’t have helped them, either.”

“Who’s… them?”

“No one worth talking about.”

“But why do they need you?”

I assembled the pieces of our previous conversations and my sparse knowledge of Obitraen history.

“You’re Rishan,” I said. “And the Hiaj are in power now. Does that”—I nodded to the letter—“mean that there might be a change?”

The expression of surprise on Vale’s face was unmistakable.

Confirmation.

“Your people are attempting to retake the throne.” I was pleased with myself for putting this together, the same way I was satisfied when I solved a difficult equation. “And they’re asking you to come back and—”

“And help them lose a war,” Vale snapped. “All in the name of some bastard king.”

I had never seen him like this. He looked like he was crawling out of his skin.

“You don’t like this man,” I said. “Or, uh… woman. Person.”

Who was I to make assumptions?

“He’s… not king material.”

“You’ve met him?”

“A long time ago, yes.”

“And you didn’t like him?”

“I—” He seemed to be at a loss for words. “I wouldn’t bow to him.No onewould bow to him.”

I stared blankly at him.

“What?” he snapped. “You look as if you’re about to tell me I’m wrong, so go ahead. Do it.”

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