Page 192 of The Nightmare Bride
Then again, that ridiculous accent gave him away. That, and the imperial command he somehow laced through every word.
“I’m ordering you,” Kyven said coldly, “to put down the knife. Don’t make me say it again.”
The woman sucked in a breath, but a moment later, both fist and blade vanished from my throat. She backed away, her hands raised. “I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t think?—”
“What, that I’d take issue with you threatening my wife?” Censure bled from Kyven’s tone. Apparently, hecouldhave a serious conversation. “Because I do. And it’s as she said. There’s nothing here for you. Even if there were, that doesn’t give you the right to go around putting daggers to people’s throats.”
The woman wilted.
I gaped. Good goddess, what would it be like to just...princeyour way into making people feel bad about themselves?
Clearly, I hadn’t been utilizing this princess thing to its fullest potential.
“Go.” Kyven’s command held no room for argument. “And don’t come back here.”
The woman made to move past him, but he extended a hand, palm up.
“Leave the knife.”
She gulped and set my dagger in his grip, then rushed off. He stood unmoving. With the tunnel backlighting him, I couldn’t make out his expression.
Seconds ticked past, each one snarling my nerves tighter. Because now we were alone down here, and Kyven had my knifeandthe perfect alibi. People would have asked questions if I’d turned up dead in our bedroom, but here in the root cellar? He could simply blame my murder on the outlaw who’d tried to rob us. Easy.
A crazed laugh burbled from my throat.
“What,” he said, “is so funny?”
“This.” The intensity of the last few minutes jarred something loose, some violent rush of emotion. It would be a relief, finally, to know. To see that the man I slept beside—the one who waltzed through these halls looking the way he did, who charmed people left and right, who was in the maddening habit of calling me his wife, no less—was no more than a monster.
I only hoped he’d make this next part quick.
“Go on.” I gestured to the dagger. “You have my knife. And all the privacy you could want. You can finally do everything you’ve been dreaming of doing to me.”
No answer. For long moments, he didn’t move. Then he came toward me. Light gleamed on the point of my dagger—a bright star of pain, just waiting to be delivered.
A red wall of rage rose within me. Goddess, what a graceless, stupid way to die. How had I even gotten myself into this situation? How could I leave Amryssa alone like this?
But when Kyven’s face came into focus, his mouth snicked up. “I assure you, lioness, the things I dream of doing to youdon’tinvolve a knife.”
His hand moved. I braced for the bite of metal between my ribs, but he simply slid my blade into my belt-sheath. Then he just...
...stood there. Committing exactly zero crimes against my person. If anything, he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Surely you didn’t think I’d hurt you?”
I stared up into his face. What?What?I wanted to scream. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to fall to the floor and thank him for saving me from that thief, only the fact that he had didn’t make sense, none of this did, and mostly, I just wanted him to stoplookingat me like that.
Like he knew me. Like we had some kind of rapport.
“Now.” Warmth colored his voice. “I have some mushrooms to deliver, and you have a seneschal’s daughter to attend to. Shall we go? Or would you prefer to stand here making baseless accusations all day? I really could go either way, myself.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Nonsensical tears pricked at my eyes. “I...don’t understand you.”
His mouth quirked. “Really? I wonder why that is.”
I just stood there, helpless. Lost.
“Have you considered,” he said, “it might be because you haven’t actually tried?”
He flashed me a wink, then walked off, snatching a burlap bag on the way. Mushrooms, presumably.
