to participate made her feel weak and uncertain, and none of those skills she’d learned were of any use. Her dagger was hidden in her room, and she couldn’t put any of these smirking Garimoran courtiers into a chokehold.
Let alone eliminate the threat that loomed before her now. She might be in a crowded ballroom, but behind this column, there seemed to be no one but her and the Raven. So naturally, when that surge of fear threatened to overwhelm her, she reverted to old habits—she attacked, with the only weapons left to her.
She said the first ridiculous thing that popped into her head. “I bet you’re nothing but a troll in a suit of armor.”
What was she, five? A real princess probably wouldn’t even think of saying such a thing.
“After all these years of doing nothing but terrorizing people, I’m surprised that armor still fits.”
Very smart. If she were any more eloquent, perhaps someone would hire her as a court jester instead of a bodyguard.
“Or maybe you’re actually dead. That would explain why you don’t speak. Or do you?”
He didn’t answer. But he also didn’t sweep out that sword and cut off her head, so she goaded him again, desperate for him to do something. Anything, really, as long as it made him appear human so she wouldn’t have to be afraid.
“Are the stories all true? Are you really a monster who can hunt down any quarry and has killed thousands in the name of your king?”
He was so inhumanly still, Leisa began to wonder whether she hadn’t been right about him being dead. There were dark mages who could conceivably manage that sort of thing, but she wouldn’t have thought to find one here.
“If you’re so devoted to protecting Garimore, what do you think of this alliance?”
It was more of a feeling than an actual movement, but she could have sworn she’d finally gotten a reaction.
“Do you think I’m ugly and witless and without a scrap of backbone?”
And at that, he actually twitched.
“So you do, then?” She’d found a weakness, so she pushed. “And are you staring at me because you’d like to add your own observations to the list of my imperfections? Opine on my unsuitability? Or because you find me suspicious and want to know whether I’m hiding that army of serving girls under all these flounces?”
Some spy she was. Maybe she could blame the corset. The wretched thing was clearly cutting off the blood to her brain and making all rational thought impossible.
And now, if she wasn’t careful, someone was going to find out about her talent for eavesdropping. Or that she was nothing at all like the reserved, proper princess she was pretending to be. And if the Raven informed his king of everything? Well, hopefully it was only Prince Danric who would be getting in trouble and not Leisa.
This conversation, if one could call it that, had obviously gone on long enough. She had gotten what she wanted—proof that she could act in spite of her fear—and now she really wanted to be somewhere else.
Leisa had just opened her mouth to excuse herself when the Raven moved. Not just a twitch, and not away from her, as she’d hoped, but nearer. He stepped towards her, each gliding motion bringing him closer to where she stood locked in place, unable to even twitch her toes.
Though that could have been the fault of her unbearably tight shoes.
Despite her trepidation, Leisa found herself listening for the sound of his boots on the floor, hoping for some incontrovertible proof that he was truly no more than just a man.
But he gave her nothing. Not even the whisper of a footfall, or the quiet rasp of armor as it flexed, metal on metal. He was so silent that before she’d even finished being amazed by how quietly he moved, he was standing directly in front of her, so close that she could have reached out and touched his armored chest with her trembling fingers.
Her hand began to lift, driven by some morbid curiosity, wanting to touch, wanting to know for sure that he was solid and real…
She jerked her hand back to her side, horrified by the impulse.
Don’t touch. No. Terrible idea. He would probably cut off her fingers, and then where would she be?
So she fixed her eyes on his chest plate and concentrated on wondering what that armor was made of. Would it be warm or cold? And was there really anything at all beneath it…