Page 62 of Villainess's Redemption
I shot her a warning look through the mirror. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh? So the way Prince Anderic held you in the garden was completely unremarkable?” Her nimble fingers worked at my laces. “And how you practically fled from him had nothing to do with-”
“Laurel!” Heat crept up my neck. “That’s quite enough.”
She grinned, completely unrepentant. “As you wish. Though I must say, the prince looked rather… affected when you ran away.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. The dagger sitting on the table. “What am I going to do with that cursed thing?”
“Return it?” Laurel suggested helpfully. “Isn’t that what you were supposed to do?”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” she hummed, gathering my hair. “You could always give it to Agnes. She has access to his chambers.”
Which is exactly how I found myself lurking outside Anderic’s wing like some deranged assassin, clutching his dagger wrapped in cloth.
The halls were mercifully empty, moonlight streaming through tall windows and casting elongated shadows across the marble floor. My heart thundered so loud I was certain the guards would hear it.
Agnes, Anderic’s elderly maid, emerged from his chambers looking as stern as ever. Perfect.
“Lady Stormbourne?” Her voice cracked like a whip. “What brings you to this wing at such an hour?”
I thrust the wrapped dagger toward her. “Could you please return this to His Highness? My brother-”
“His Highness is in his bedchamber,” she cut me off, already turning away. “Third door on the right.”
“But I-”
She was gone before I could protest, leaving me alone in the moonlit corridor with Anderic’s dagger and my racing thoughts.
Absolutely not. I’m not going into his bedchamber.
The logical thing would be to leave the dagger with a guard. Or come back tomorrow. Or throw it out a window and pretend this never happened.
Instead, my traitorous feet carried me to the third door on the right.
Just leave it by the door,I told myself.Knock and run.
I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could touch wood, the door swung open.
Anderic stood there, golden curls tousled, wearing loose sleeping pants and an undone shirt. The candlelight behind him cast his bare chest in shadows that did absolutely nothing to hide the defined muscles there.
His dark, dangerous eyes locked onto mine. “I was wondering when you’d work up the courage to knock.”
Oh hell.
I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind blank as Anderic turned and walked back into his chambers, his fingers already working on the remaining buttons of his shirt.
“What the hell are you doing?” My voice came out higher than intended.
“Getting undressed,” he didn’t even look back at me. “The burn needs redressing, and I can’t reach it myself.”
“That’s what healers are for!” I clutched the dagger like a lifeline.
He glanced over his shoulder, moonlight catching the planes of his face. “At this hour? They need rest too. Besides, you’re already here.”
The shirt slipped from his shoulders, revealing the angry red patch spreading across his right shoulder blade. Guilt gnawed at my conscience. He’d gotten that protecting me from Penelope’s “accident.”
