Page 38 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

Groaning to herself, she rose from the bed. It was still early evening, and there was no way she could sleep.

Picking up the lantern from her nightstand, Lessia wandered aimlessly around the castle for hours. All the long hallways looked the same—white, polished stone, small balconies jutting out over the sea, and lanterns that hung on the walls every few feet. It was only the paintings that made her understand she was yet again walking through a hallway close to her room.

One of the larger ones was a drawing of Havlands, and she traced her finger from Asker, the capital and largest island in Ellow’s vast archipelago, in the north to Vastala in the south and over the many smaller isles between them—about half of them in human territory and the rest in Fae lands.

In the east lay Korina—the shifter isle—but it was veiled in shadows in this painting. Lessia guessed it made sense. The Fae and humans burned it to the ground during the war, and it wasn’t habitable.

When her lantern sputtered, she replaced it with a fresh one from the wall. But she still wasn’t tired, so she opened the glass doors to a wide balcony beside the painting, drawing a deep breath of salty air.

The sea was wild tonight, with white froth foaming over the crashing waves, mirroring the snow covering the cliffs beneath the balcony.

After setting down the lantern on the ground, Lessia let her hands glide over the icy railing, tracing the sparkling ice as she lifted her face to the sky. She was glad for the lantern she’d brought, as the thick cloud bank that had drawn in didn’t let a single star or any stream of moonlight through, lying like a heavy blanket over Asker.

A whisper of awareness made the hair on the back of her neck rise, and without turning around, she hissed quietly, “Ican feel you watching me, Merrick. I know I haven’t made much progress, but it’s been a day. I’ll spend two weeks locked in some cabin with them. I’ll find out the information our king seeks before that time is up.”

“Brave of you to speak so freely when anyone in this castle could hear you. Or perhaps it’s stupidity. You seem to have a penchant for it.” Merrick’s voice grew louder as he stepped onto the balcony.

She slowly turned around, leaning against the railing and enjoying the wind blowing through her unbound hair.

Merrick lingered by the wall, his legs crossed as he rested against it, but his hands were balled into fists, so tight his knuckles blanched.

“You plan on hurting me again?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and she prepared herself for the pain, the cold from the railing biting into her back and the waves crashing onto the cliffs below echoing in her ears.

Merrick shook his head. “Step away from the railing, Elessia.”

Narrowing her eyes, she watched him closely. “Why?”

A growl rumbled in his chest, so loud she could almost see it vibrating through him. “Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Because you’re so pleasant to talk to, of course. I truly can’t get enough.” Lessia grinned to herself, glad he couldn’t see it.

It felt good standing up to the bastard males who seemed to believe they could order her around and treat her as they pleased.

The election was only beginning, and she was already sick of them.

She had enough guilt and worry and shame to carry.

She didn’t need cruel words and vile bullies making it worse.

He growled again. “Just step away, Elessia. It’s slippery out here. You wouldn’t want to fall, would you? Weren’t the warnings of accidents occurring enough?”

“Careful, Merrick. That sounds a lot like caring to me,” she purred, her smile widening when his body tensed and his lips twisted into a snarl.

It honestly might be worth him killing her to get under his skin like this.

His voice was glacial when he responded. “I couldn’t care less if you fall to your death, but my king made me promise to keep you alive for now. Get. Off. The. Balcony.”

She shuddered when his magic whispered over her skin, gripping her by the neck and pushing her forward.

Lessia struggled for a bit—mostly to anger him further—but she was cold anyway, so after a moment, she raised her hands and approached the open doors.

Thankfully, he let her go as soon as she took the first step inside.

“Calm down, Death Whisperer. Wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack.” She nearly reached out to pat his shoulder before she caught herself.

She’d probably wound him up enough for now.

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