Page 13 of Courting the Tiger King

The king nodded once, the motion powerful, final. “I’m glad to know you have allies, Lady Zennon.”

Zen smiled, but Neah barely saw it. Instead, she was caught on the way the king inhaled sharply, like a predator catching the scent of prey. “Me too. Though, I’m afraid it’s still more than a little unclear to mewhyI’m here?”

The king at last looked away from Neah and she nearly slumped with relief, only to stiffen at his next words.

“Misguided as my guard appeared, he was not entirely incorrect. It is time for me to take a wife, to secure the future of this kingdom, and who better than my mate?”

“How could you possibly know—” Neah fell silent when Zennon nudged her in the side and the king turned his hypnotic gaze back to her.

“A spell was performed that gave me the location of my mate. Midmyr Forest. Once my men drew closer, they were able to track the magic more precisely to your estate, Lady Zennon.”

The bottom of Neah’s stomach dropped, the sensation leaving her feeling vaguely nauseous as she absorbed the king’s words. His mate was in the forest. Then at Zennon’s estate.

“How do you know your mate wasn’t one of the dead guards? Or the assassins?” This time, Zennon didn’t chastise Neah for the questions.

The only other woman in the room stepped forward, her silver eyes gleaming as she assessed Neah. “The magical trail the guards followed would have immediately dissipated had the king’s mate perished. Instead, it remained intact and led them to your friend’s door.”

Sensing Zennon might say something that Neah wasn’t quite ready to make known, she slipped her arm through her friend’s and squeezed tightly. For now, it was better that the king not know that Zennon hadn’t been the only person in the house that night. At least until Neah could speak to her father and determine the best course of action.

Zennon’s breath wheezed out of her and Neah understood the feeling. “I don’t?—”

“You don’t need to say anything right now,” the king said, and the words were surprisingly soft as he reached out and took Zennon’s free hand into his own. “I’m just grateful you’re here, and alive, and that we have the opportunity to know one another.”

The beams of sunlight illuminated the king’s silhouette and wrapped him and Zennon in a glittering golden haze and Neah couldn’t deny that they looked good together. Zennon was softand dark, the king as unyielding as stone but with a softened edge made of spun bronze. A perfect balance between dark and light, soft and hard. The silver-eyed woman’s gaze hadn’t left Neah as she observed the king and her friend and she raised a brow in the woman’s direction while the king continued to murmur to Zennon. What did the woman think she knew?

“I’ll leave you to settle in, but perhaps we could have breakfast together tomorrow?”

For a second, the king looked young, vulnerable, his golden eyes wide and his long, pale fingers moved a shade too fast when he tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind his ear.

Neah nudged Zennon and she sucked in a shaking breath. “That—sounds lovely.”

“Until tomorrow, then.” The king bowed and they curtsied in turn, remaining in place as the king swept out of the room with Gabriel, Skye, and the silver-eyed woman in tow.

Only then did Zennon turn to Neah, dark eyes narrowed into slits. “You have a lot of explaining to do,friend. And is that my dress?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

NEAH

Zennon was silent for the entire duration of the walk back to her room and Neah glanced at her friend frequently, trying to assess what she was most upset about. Had the assassination attempt finally sunk in? Surely she couldn’t be angry that Neah had broken into the house, considering she’d then saved Zennon’s life? Or was it only that Neah had borrowed this gorgeous, frustrating dress? They’d shared clothes before, so Neah had assumed it wouldn’t be an issue.

Speculation running wild in her mind, by the time they reached Zennon’s door amongst the wing of guest chambers Neah was fit to burst.

The room was nice, clean, though a little small compared to what Zennon was likely used to as a noblewoman. A large four-poster bed sat off to the left, taking up the majority of the space in the room, and a quick glance revealed an adjoining bathing chamber. It wasn’t Neah’s first time visiting the guest chambers, but it was her first time taking them in by daylight. Dark woods and white sheets gave an impression of freshness and the air smelled faintly of cedar. The effect was pleasant, if underwhelming.

Zennon kicked off her delicate pumps and stomped over to the large window at the back of the room, the only source of natural light in the space. A small round table meant for one had been set next to the window, the gauzy curtains brushing its edges, and Neah followed the other woman and took a seat in one of the upholstered armchairs. They were a strange shape, a half-moon whose back only reached Neah’s waist when she sat. Whoever had designed these chairs had clearly never sat in them—or they knew nothing of what it meant to be comfortable.

“Well?” Zennon remained standing, her arms crossed as she glared out of the window so fervently that Neah peered around her to see what she might be looking at. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Neah blinked, folding her hands atop one knee as she considered Zennon. “Hello, dear friend, I’m happy you’re alive?”

Zennon softened slightly. “Yes, yes, I’m grateful for your heroics—though itisa shame about the rug. I had that imported from the continent.”

“I’m sure the king would procure you another.” Neah’s lips twitched and Zennon scowled.

“Finally. I’m glad you’re done dancing around the topic.”

“That’s what your sour mood is about?”

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