at the corner of her mouth. “But I fully intend to blame you if I’m late to the luncheon.”
Not the effect he’d been going for. Laughter wouldn’t keep her safe. A sense of humor wouldn’t help her when the king decided it was time to remove her head.
But something had changed, and in spite of his efforts, she seemed utterly immune to his menacing presence. In fact, she went so far as to tease him.
It was disconcerting. Irritating. It might even have been infuriating if he hadn’t suddenly realized that what he really wanted was for her to tease him again.
Somehow, she’d reached across the silent space between them with that soft heart of hers and made a connection. Become real and knowable. A person he was in danger of… liking.
It was the very last thing he should do. The very last thing he could afford. He had no heart, and any attempt to pretend otherwise would bring only unimaginable pain.
So he drew back and remained in his flanking position as the princess took off down the hall again. When they reached the end of it, he simply pointed to indicate which way they ought to go.
She thanked him, and they went on in this same way for a half dozen turns until they finally approached a stair that triggered recognition across their link. The princess finally knew where she was. One more turn, cross the balcony above the atrium, and she would be almost back to her rooms.
But as they approached the arched opening that led towards the balcony, he heard voices.
Melger. And in the midst of his words, the Raven heard the words “mage,” “monster,” and “hunt.”
And suddenly, he knew only that he couldn’t let the king see them. Couldn’t let Melger link the princess and mages in his head. Not after that conversation she’d had with Vaniell in the garden. Not after she betrayed a familiarity with magecraft that came only from knowledge and experience.
So he stepped in front of her, grasped her upper arms, and swung her around until her back was to the wall, parallel to the arch—out of sight.
She was startled, of course, and opened her mouth, probably to tell him off, but he couldn’t afford for them to be discovered.
So he closed the distance between them until their chests nearly touched, pressing her closer to the wall as his arms caged her in on either side. Hoping to distract her. To intimidate her. To prevent her from moving if at all possible.
His mistake.
Because as they pressed more closely together, her face hidden in the folds of his cloak, his mask only inches from her hair, he could no longer deny that his motivation had been far less straightforward than he first thought.
He was still curious. He was still somewhat amused. And he was still completely fascinated by the vivid, compelling, mysterious princess from Farhall.
She could not be allowed to come to harm.
Not merely because King Melger had ordered it so—no, this was different. Because everything in him seemed to understand that the greatest threat to her safety was not from anyone outside these walls—it was from Melger himself.
His head bent nearer, almost against his will, as if by getting even closer, he could somehow come to terms with the war being waged within him. Could find a way to understand what it was that drew him in instead of repulsing him. But even as he struggled to convince himself to step away and smother whatever impulse drove him to protect her… he was taken completely aback by her reaction.
Her face lifted. Her lips parted. Her pulse raced, and he knew instinctively it was still not from fear. Almost as if she felt it too. As if… she wanted to be nearer. Were he any other man, he might have thought she was expecting a kiss.
And as the shock of that resonated through their link, Melger’s voice grew too loud to ignore.
The princess suddenly blinked, and her pulse slowed down. Apparently, she found the thought of dealing with the king less threatening than the Raven’s dark, brooding nearness.
The Raven was no longer certain he would agree.
“How many did we lose, Orvell?”
“Unknown.” The guard captain’s voice trembled, like the cowardly weasel he was. “They were expecting to face trouble, but not one of them. The regiment was scattered.”
Melger was hunting again, and all the Raven could feel was relief that he’d been spared. If he was busy protecting the princess, he couldn’t be sent to