Page 73 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

“Tsk, tsk. That was rude. While the election might be ongoing, I am still regent, and this is my castle.”

Loche strode into the room, closing the door behind him as Lessia backed up, tightening her grip on the daggers.

She had no idea why he was here, but she was done taking any chances.

Grudgingly, she admitted that Merrick might be right about making sure she kept her guard up at all times.

Loche’s mouth twitched when he glanced at her hands, then let his gaze sweep across the room, lingering on the many lanterns lining the walls, the bedside table, and the small desk.

He pulled out the chair Merrick had just sat on, spun it around, sat down, and rested his arms on the back of it.

Loche flicked his dark hair out of his face. “Scared of the dark. I should have guessed in the cabin.”

She didn’t respond, only backed up until the cold wood of the wall bit into her back.

His storming eyes swept over her once more, his features softening slightly. “I am not here to hurt you, darling.”

Biting her lip, she narrowed her eyes as his gaze focused on the sharp canines she was sure he glimpsed. “Whyareyou here?”

Loche leaned his chin in his hands. “I’m not entirely sure.”

A flicker of something she couldn’t quite read raced across his features.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered.

A weak smile spread across her face. “The infamous LocheLejonskold isn’t sure of something? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Rolling his eyes, he gestured toward the bed. “You should sit down. After an adrenaline rush like you just had, you’re probably about to crash any moment.”

Her first instinct was to argue, but her limbs felt heavy, so she cautiously made her way to the bed, keeping her eyes on Loche’s the whole way.

After propping up a pillow against the wall, she lowered herself down and placed the daggers on the mattress beside her.

Loche continued to eye her, a wrinkle between his brows.

When she couldn’t stand the silence anymore, Lessia pulled at a strand of her hair. “What happened tonight? Why would Stellia’s guards attack?”

Shrugging, Loche tore his eyes away from hers. “I’m sure there will be a briefing soon where they’ll tell us what they think happened.”

“What they think—” Lessia started, but Loche interrupted her.

“Why were you a prisoner?”

Her pulse quickened, and she fixed her gaze on her hands, trying to straighten the wrinkles on her cloak from the day’s wear.

When she lifted her gaze again, Loche’s slammed into hers with so much force she sucked in a breath.

Grinding her teeth, she responded quietly, “I did something bad.”

Loche tilted his head. “How bad?”

“Bad enough.”

Lessia groaned silently.

She wanted to forget all about her time in the king’s cellars and any time before.

Lately, everything seemed to stir the memories she’d worked so hard to bury.

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