Reaching Answers (Artemis University #8) - Erin R Flynn Page 0,11
but continuing to keep it from me was a valid reason for me to be upset. It was over a year.
That was too long.
Plus, knowing that piece of the puzzle would have helped on a lot.
A point others had made. Repeatedly. Especially Geiger and others who had the task of protecting me. Also educating me. There was a whole vast education I now needed as a fairy royal.
I looked super forward to that.
But the hobgoblins were not happy about the whole thing, and there was more than one magical clash and food battle in the kitchen or cafeteria. I couldn’t even imagine how things were at other places where they didn’t even have to try to curb it.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Hudson asked me, bringing me back to the present and making me realize we were at my dorm.
I blinked around and sighed, scrubbing my hands over my head. “The hobgoblins. Sorry, there’s just so much going on. I appreciate your support and not judging me.”
“They’ll work things out and handle it as they need to. It’s not on you.” He smiled when I gave him a look as if saying it was all always on me. “Try to get some rest this break.” He cleared his throat and then glanced around. “I wanted to address the New Year’s Eve party and—”
“She’s just a friend,” I cut in, giving him a soft smile. “She’s very interested in someone and working on trying to make it happen, even if he is below her station. Yes, I’ve been told. Repeatedly. It’s tradition, and a royal has never gone stag to the party. It’s really okay.”
“Really?” he asked, seeming confused.
I sighed. “Yes, you twit. That’s vastly different than having a betrothed you didn’t tell me about and attending parties with her. This is for appearances and there’s nothing between you. You discussed it with me beforehand. Totally different.”
“So we’re good?”
“We’re good.”
He accepted that, but then leaned in so his lips were almost pressing against mine. “I’d much rather you were my date and wore something fantastic for me this year.”
And then he stood up and walked away.
Damn panty soaker dragon. He was putting on the full-court press for sure.
Bring it.
3
I was exhausted by the time I arrived home. Mentally, emotionally, and physically even, from opening a temp portal that big to bring in vehicles. I was off magical lockdown shortly after Neldor had healed me, but the ramp-up was slow and most of it mental.
So the last thing I wanted to deal with was the prince of the dark fairies himself.
Or the “Prince of Darkness” as I’d started lovingly referring to him. He didn’t get it really, but he knew it was a slight.
“I would appreciate some of your time,” he greeted, my brain about shorting out at the polite tone he used. “I acquired vast amounts of food for us and would like to show you some things.”
I frowned and stepped back. “Like, leave here together?”
“Yes.”
“Um, we’re not going on a date,” I stated firmly, not hiding how insane that sounded.
He slowly raised a perfect eyebrow at me. Everything about Neldor was perfect and pristine.
Besides his personality.
But he was ridiculously good looking as long as he kept his mouth shut, facial expressions non-judgmental, and temper under control. None of which he ever did.
He had long, jet-black hair that went well past his shoulders that he wore in a ponytail—a style I was told was common for fairies, especially warriors—and alluring light green eyes. He wasn’t much taller than me at six feet and had a lean swimmer’s build, but he was ripped. Every inch of him was toned, perfect muscle that looked airbrushed in real time.
In other words, you really hated him for ruining the awesome sex dream fodder he was when he opened his damn mouth.
“I’m not asking for a date, simply a conversation.”
I bit back a retort, not wanting to be the reason we fought when he was actually being polite for once. But if I did say something, I would have choice words about how a date would be beneath him when he would much rather order women to just do whatever, and his sexist ass probably never had to work so hard as to set up a date as that would require respecting a woman.
I wasn’t salty about the way he’d been treating me or anything.
Not. At. All.
I sighed, glancing at the bags in his hand. “Neldor, I’m exhausted. Something happened today and—”