Page 41 of A Kingdom of Lies

“You,” he spat, “will eat with me.”

His words snatched the breath from my lungs. “Pardon?”

Duncan ignored me and my confusion, hardly even paying me any attention as he spoke to Althea and Gyah again. “I thought you’d like to know that we leave tomorrow. Finstock and its occupants are unhappy with my actions today and those loyal to me and my views are few and far between. Healed or not, we move on.”

With that Duncan turned on his heel, stomping back towards the door without another word.

I looked to Gyah whose expression was thunderous, and then Althea whose face was unreadable, the visage of a future Queen able to hide her true feelings behind a mask, a mask I had not yet perfected.

“But Althea is not ready to leave,” Gyah snapped as Duncan reached for the door. There was no denying the pleading in her tone.

Gyah didn’t notice it, but Althea spared her a stare with wide, glistening eyes. She then squeezed Gyah’s hand with lips pursed in silent thought.

“It was not an opportunity to argue,” Duncan replied, not bothering to turn and face Gyah, who clearly was irked by his lack of respect or care. “Rest and enjoy the food that will come to you. I cannot promise another stop before we reach Lockinge. And where we are going, the concept of a meal for your kind is a rarity. Now you, Robin, follow me. I have more questions about why a fey would want to turn against his own.”

My reply came thundering out of me. “I do not wish for that–”

“No?” Duncan huffed a forced laugh, turning the side of his face to flash the grin upon it. “Have you changed your mind, because if you have it’s a little too late.”

There was nothing I could say back to that. I caught Gyah’s line of sight, her teeth gritted as she subtly nodded at me. Although she didn’t speak, I knew the message she was trying to convey.

I needed to distract Duncan. If he wanted us to leave tomorrow, we needed to hold off in hopes that Queen Lyra had sent people after us. It was the only way of getting them away from here – getting us away from here.

“What’s on the menu?” I asked, chin lifted as I took careful steps to follow Duncan.

“Something delicious no doubt.”

My stomach rumbled at the comment, noticed by Duncan, who smirked to himself.

“You must be really pressed for company if you’d rather break bread with the very kind you hate?”

Duncan paused, so suddenly I almost crashed into his back. “Hate, yes. But I admit, Robin. The idea of your motivations is as intriguing as I find you.”

CHAPTER 14

Duncan Rackley’s skin was no stranger to scars.

His back was facing me as he tugged the dark tunic over his head, flexing the muscles across his shoulders and the constellation of marks upon them. He was covered in them from the base of his neck to the narrowed pinching of his waist.

I couldn’t do anything but watch as he undressed before the rising wall of steam that danced from the tub’s hot belly of water. I waited for him to say something. Anything. Instead, he treated me as though I was a ghost, stripping the items of clothing from his body until only the undershorts were left. Then he turned, looking over his broad shoulder at me as though he suddenly remembered my existence.

“Are you waiting for permission to sit?” His tone was dull and unbothered.

“I thought I’d been invited here for something to eat?” I retorted, trying to keep my gaze upon his instead of glancing down at his exposed skin.

“Help yourself, my leftovers are on the side board.”

He gestured pathetically to the side of the room where, in fact, a plate of cheese, meats and half-eaten bread lay waiting.

“I think I will pass,” I said, not wanting to move a muscle as Duncan continued to undress himself.

“Then the company will do,” Duncan said, kicking the pile of his clothing out of the way before reaching a hand for the brass tub’s edge. “And conversation. It’s not every day I get the chance to speak with a fey so freely. Usually, the circumstances of their stay here are… less fitting for idle chatter. So, sit, eat if you want, and let’s talk.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. Water sloshed as Duncan climbed into the tub, but I kept my focus on perching myself on the edge of the bed that waited on the other side of the room. Although I’d disregarded the offer of food, I took it anyway, inhaling the few bits left just to stifle the discomfort in my gut.

With each inhale I could taste the strong scents oozing from the bath, sweet lavender with a faint hint of something sharper. Sandalwood. I recognised the smell from an oil Father had used to tame his beard.

Duncan sighed slowly, lowering himself further into the brass tub, water sloshing over the lip until he was submerged up to his chin. His eyes were closed, the furrowed brow I’d grown used to seeing him with relaxed. The lack of him viewing me as a threat irked me more than it should, so did the concept I was only good enough for left overs. Once again, I waited for him to speak, to shatter this silence. It was clear that the quiet was something Duncan was used to, his own company enough to keep himself amused.

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