Page 132 of A Tribute of Fire

“I told you that you’d kiss me,” he said with a smile against my mouth.

It was enough to break the spell that he’d put me under and I stepped back. I shouldn’t have kissed him. It had been a mistake. My heart was pounding, my head dizzy. Our lips had barely even touched and I felt as if I might faint.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” he asked.

The kiss had happened because I’d wanted to do it ever since I’d pushed him up against that wall, my xiphos at his throat. Thanks to my vivid dreams, I had spent the last month desperately aching for him, even if I hadn’t been able to admit it.

Not even to myself.

I had kissed him because if I hadn’t, my entire body would have been engulfed in flames and I would have combusted, burning down to ash and floating away. The problem was kissing him had only made those feelings intensify.

More fire, more unbearable lightness.

“It was a thank-you, nothing more,” I said, hoping the tone of my voice wasn’t giving away my true reaction.

He obviously didn’t believe me but was polite enough not to mention it. “Then I’ll have to endeavor to win your favor again if that is the reward.”

My whole body felt heavy. I recognized that I shouldn’t have opened that door, even slightly. I needed to rebuild my walls.

But broken rubble wasn’t meant to be put back together, and I couldn’t construct a strong enough defense to shove him out. I had to steel my heart against him. Remind myself that he was nothing more than a distraction. A tempting, delicious distraction, but one nonetheless.

“I would also like to point out that I led you to the docks, found you a Locrian sailor, and am now leading you to the library, if you’d like to thank me some more.”

Oh, I was still very much in the mood to thank him. But if I kissed him again, I worried that I wouldn’t stop.

“Where is the library?” I asked, ignoring his teasing words.

He pointed east of our current location and I began heading in that direction.

“Never was much shorter than I would have imagined,” he said. I could feel my cheeks flaming in response while I tried to ignore him and his soft laughter. It was humiliating that I hadn’t even made it a couple of hours after I’d told him that I would never kiss him again.

He continued speaking. “I also hope you don’t think my toll has been paid. I would hardly consider that a kiss. Not in the way that I know you’re capable of.”

Now my whole body was aflame from his words, from the kind of exhilarating imagery I was easily able to conjure up. Most of it was directly supplied from my dreams, but I knew exactly what he was capable of in real life as well. A part of my brain called me a fool for not taking advantage of what he was offering while I had the chance.

“Is your father the reason why you have your position in the palace?” he asked.

My father? I was so busy imagining all the different ways that I would like to break rules with Jason that at first I didn’t understand what he was saying. I was confused. Obviously my father was the reason I was a princess, but then I realized that he was talking about the message that I’d entrusted to Simos and that he’d been speaking about Demaratus. Because when Jason and I had first met, he had assumed I was a maidservant.

“Yes, he helped me to secure my place.” Not in the way that Jason would understand it, but it was true. Well, adjacent to the truth while still obscuring what I needed to cover up.

“Did he train you as well?”

Should I say yes? If someone started asking questions in Locris about a girl Demaratus had trained, there were enough people in the palace who knew that it was me and I would risk exposure.

My regiment had been sworn to secrecy, but my mother had taught me long ago that everyone had a price.

“All you have to do is find the right incentive,” she had said.

I’d never forgotten it.

“Here. I found what I was looking for.” Jason offered me a wrapped bundle from his knapsack, eliminating the need for me to answer about Demaratus training me.

I took it, careful not to make contact with his fingers. When I opened it I let out a soft sigh. “Pasteli.”

“One never knows when they might run into a Locrian maiden who loves it,” he said. I would not be charmed by his smile. I refused.

“And that’s another thing you can feel free to thank me for later,” he added.

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