Page 64 of Promise of Darkness
“Ugh,” Eris says, pushing her away and brushing herself off, as if to rid herself of Thalia’s enthusiasm. “What part of ‘I don’t hug’ did I not make clear?”
“Sorry.” Thalia winks at her. “I forgot you don’t like being touched… unless it’s by a fae lord with an enormous cock.”
“Erlking’s hairy balls,” Finn mutters under his breath. “Thalia.”
“What?” she asks innocently. “You should have seen it. I burst into Eris’s rooms, thinking—as usual—she’d be alone, and there’s this enormous—”
“No, no, no.” He claps his hands over his eyes. “I amnotgoing to even picture it. I refuse.”
“Speaking of hairy balls—”
Finn throws a cushion at her, and Thalia bursts into laughter even as Eris winces.
“Beware the Prince of Evernight’s most dangerous allies,” Thiago says dryly.
I don’t quite know what to make of it.
My mother’s advisors and generals are all stiff, malicious bastards who wouldn’t dare break into a smile.
“Where’s Baylor?” Thiago asks.
“Frightening small children?” Finn replies.
“Dangling miscreants off the tower?” Thalia suggests.
The doors slam open, and a rugged warrior wearing battle-scarred leathers and an enormous helmet stalks inside. “Drilling in the yard with the rest of the guards,” he says, “because someone around here has to actually do his job.” Then he notices Eris and tips his head to her. “Excluding my favorite little menace.”
“Little?” she scoffs.
Now I definitely don’t know what’s going on. Eris appears to have a sense of humor. Who knew?
“Vi, this is Baylor, the last of my generals.”
“Or first,” the enormous warrior says, dragging his helmet off his head so that a tumble of golden hair brushes against his shoulders.
It’s like looking into the eyes of a dead man.
A shocked gasp escapes me as I stare at a mirror image of the bane Andraste killed.
“Vi?” Thiago frowns as he notices my reaction.
Indeed, everyone in the room is staring at me.
“I….” I need space to breathe and a moment to think. “Sorry.” I press my hands to my temples, flinging a weak smile at the prince. “I think I haven’t entirely recovered from the trip through the portal. My head’s aching.”
Thiago pushes to his feet. “Do you need—”
“No.” I wave him off. “I’m fine. I just need to rest.”
In the privacy of my rooms, where I’m not staring my guilty conscience in the face.
I don’t look back.
But I can almost feel them exchanging glances.
17
The amulet is exactly where I left it, buried among the mess of silver and gold in my jewelry chest.
