Page 26 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

What was his problem?

Staring daggers at his broad back, Lessia grumbled to herself.

It’s not like she was the only one who’d nominated herself. From the small talk he made with Stellia, he didn’t seem to have a problem with the naval captain.

“He’s just trying to figure you out.” Zaddock offered her a small smile. “And honestly, so am I. Why are you partaking, Lessia? Running taverns and gambling rooms is quite different to running a nation.”

“And what do you know of that? Aren’t you just a foot soldier?” She couldn’t help the edge that laced her voice.

She’d not expected her nomination to go down well, but if they already suspected her, were already this hostile, her mission would be more challenging than she’d thought.

Cursing to herself, she pulled at her cloak as they walked through the imposing metal gates surrounding the castle courtyard all the way to the cliffs leading into the vast sea.

If she ever wanted to get any information, she needed to figure out a way to make them, if not like her, at least not openly show their disgust.

Releasing a breath, she gave Zaddock a weak smile. “I apologize. That was uncalled for. It’s been a long day.”

Zaddock dipped his chin, eyeing her once more, then rushed his steps to join Loche on the shoveled stone path to the castle doors.

“You could make this much easier for yourself. Just use that little gift of yours, and they’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand in no time.” Merrick’s whisper brushed her ear, and it was all she could do to hold back a grimace when his power thrummed against her skin.

“Back up,” she snarled.

It wasn’t like he could kill her right there.

Or even threaten her by taking her breath.

Not unless he wanted everyone to know who he was—that the Death Whisperer himself walked amongst them.

When he still lingered behind her, she turned her head over her shoulder.

Merrick’s eyes were cast down, but the threat in the hard lines of his face, the surging power that whispered over his shoulders, was impossible to ignore.

Still, a faint smile curved her mouth. “You know, it will be much more difficult for you not to meet my eyes if you plan on staying around. It will look quite suspicious for my company to never look at me directly. And rest assured, death boy, I will be ready when you do.”

His lips lifted to let out a hiss through sharp canines that glinted like the icicles hanging from the metal lampposts lining the path to the castle, but he finally took a step back.

Lessia smiled to herself as she walked through the wooden doors leading into the castle.

It had been a gamble, one that might have cost her her life.

But apparently, Merrick had been instructed not to kill her.

At least not yet.

And she wasn’t about to have him order her around when he couldn’t hold her life over her head.

She’d use her magic if she had to.

She wasn’t beneath that, if it might save her life or keep her friends safe, but until she knew what her king was really after, she wouldn’t force Loche and his men to tell her anything.

Not when she’d been ordered to share every detail with King Rioner.

Chapter

Thirteen

The double doors opened to a massive hall framed by an arched ivory ceiling lined with gilded beams. A chandelier dangled in the middle, hundreds of lit candles casting soft light onto the marble floor and the plush chairs and couches spread out beneath.

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