Page 100 of The Rebel and the Rose
‘If you’re trying not to draw attention to yourself, you are failing miserably.’ Versini’s voice made him jerk his head to the side. ‘Any drunken fool in here could nail a game of spot-the-jealous-ill-adjusted Dagger.’
Versini and that shit-eating grin.
At least it was diverting.
‘What do you want?’ said Ransom, wearily.
‘Just making sure you’re not about to go back on your deal and lunge at the prince. Whatever they’re talking about seems to be going well.’
‘I’ll reserve my judgement.’
‘How unlike you.’
‘Careful,’ growled Ransom. ‘I still want to maim something tonight.’
That earned him an eye-roll.
‘Calm down, guard dog. I’m not your enemy.’
Ransom summoned a flat smile and said again, ‘I’ll reserve my judgement.’
Scoffing now, Versini turned his gaze on the prince, silently observing his conversation with Seraphine. ‘She likes him.’
Now he really was just trying to piss him off. ‘She doesn’t know him.’
The Shadowsmith tossed him a sideways smirk. ‘That’s the whole point of this evening. We get to know him. See what he can teach her about her magic.’ When Ransom didn’t respond, he went on. ‘Is that really such a horrifying concept to you? The idea that Seraphine is a saint? That she’s meant for something more than the life she was born into?’
‘Why would that horrify me?’
‘Because it’s better than any future you could give her.’
That needled something between his ribs. ‘You really do love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?’
‘I’m just saying… let him help her. Let him teach her.’
‘He can teach her all he likes,’ Ransom allowed. ‘As long as he doesn’t use her. Whatever Andreas is planning for Valterre, I won’t let Seraphine become his weapon.’
‘Not even if it’s what she wants?’
Prickling now, Ransom turned on him. ‘I don’t know what she wants. And neither do you.’
Versini only shrugged. ‘Isn’t it worth it, to see what she can really do when she finally unlocks her magic?’
It was a reasonable question, but Ransom was not in a reasonable mood. ‘So long as it doesn’t harm her.’
‘It’s already harming her,’ said Versini, and that was another truth that rankled him. ‘But of course you’d prefer to keep her weak. Unable to truly defend herself. That way, she’ll always need you.’
That vial of Shade in his pocket was becoming harder to resist. He reminded himself that they were not here to brawl but to watch. To wait and see what kind of man – what kind of saint – Andreas proved himself to be. And Seraphine had yet to raise the alarm. Rather, she was enraptured by him. There was a woman sitting with her now, fair-haired like the prince.
‘Versini, you must know by now that I would never hurt her.’
The Shadowsmith leaned back against the pillar, his arms folded across his chest. ‘That doesn’t make you trustworthy. It just means you want to screw her.’
‘You do realize you’re in stabbing distance?’
He flashed his teeth. ‘Try it, Tunnel Rat.’
This arrogant prick.
