Page 55 of Kiss the Filthiest King

I stop mid-stride, trying not to look guilty. But it's hard, because I was, in fact, snooping. Not that anyone told me not to snoop. And I'm in my sister's place, right? Darina’s never had anything against snoopers, being curious herself.

There are a number of curious objects I couldn't begin to identify, most incredibly pretty, carved or sculpted or woven in a way we just don't see anymore. Not in my world.

I know better than to actuallytouchanything. I've been to witch shops with Rin, and let's just say, I don't want a repeat of the pustule incident from junior high. But there's no harm inlooking, is there?

I figured if there was, my trusty bodyguard would tell me to step back.

It's not Caenan admonishing me though.

I turn to face the most irritating person I've met here so far—and that's saying much, given the whole castle full of grade-A assholes who want to hurt me, and my sister, and each other, and themselves, too, I think. These fae are insane.

"Wisdom? From you?" I lift an eyebrow, channeling Rain as I posture to look as annoyed and annoying as possible. "I clearly missed something."

"I said," he drawls in his low, condescending, sexy tone, "you ought to sleep. And I meant it. Tonight will be trying enough without you being dead on your feet and twice as clumsy as usual."

And here it is, the not-so-veiled insult.

I sigh. "Do you have to be so mean?"

There's a whine in my voice, I can't help it. He's right, I'm exhausted. But I dare anyone to just fall asleep after the day I've had. While in a fairy castle. After killing their sister's rapist. After their parents and their fiancé’sdeaths.

"Not necessarily," Loch says.

"I think you do. Being mean; that's a compulsion for you." I don't want to admit it, but I've seen the same sort of instinct from my sister. It's not directed towards me as such, but her default comment tends to be the most hurtful thing she can say. "Can you even give a compliment?"

Loch tilts his head, considering me. "You’re squishy."

I laugh. That's better than the alternative. "Squishy. That’s your best work?Squishy? I think I hate you."

My sister's brother shrugs. "I like squishiness. It’s unusual in a woman. Exotic."

I bristle, my jaw tightening. "I’m a perfectly average size for a woman my age.”

“Not here.”

Yeah, I’d noticed at the revel. They’re all tiny and dainty, or great and colossal and intimidating. There’s no one just…soft. Weak.

“Pleasego away.”

“Now don’t be hasty. I am not as adept at droughts as your new brother-in-law, so I can’t offer a sleeping aid, but I do have some wine.”

He lifts the bottle in his left hand.

“Fairy wine? I thought you were trying for wisdom.” That shit went straight to my head and took hours to clear, earlier.

It helped a little after he poured it from the iron cup, but it’s still strong.

“The kind that helps with sleep. And other languorous pursuits,” he adds wickedly, throwing himself on a lounger.

“Such as?” I ask before thinking.

Loch snorts. “If you have to ask, you’re too young for me to explain it.”

Oh.

“I’m twenty-four.AndI’m not interested in any languorous pursuits that aren’t sleep. I have just lost my fiancé, you know,” I remind him.

I can’t believe he’s sort of hitting on me. He is, isn’t he?

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