“Myth, I am not letting you go back to the Translators’ Circle. Not tonight—not for a couple weeks at least,” Arvel said. “I want you safe, and that’s far easier to accomplish if you stay in the palace.”
“Yes, but in the Calnorian royal wing?” Her voice lilted up, the tiniest trace of an Elvish accent returning to her words in her apparent reluctance.
“You stayed there before,” he pointed out.
“For one night! If you believe I need to stay in the palace for weeks, it seems inappropriate given that I am a mere employee.”
“Are you certain that would be your choice? This time I made arrangements so now you’re just a little way down from Ben’s and Fyn’s rooms,” Arvel said, throwing out the best bait he could cast. “Don’t you want the chance to possibly step into the hallway the same time as your hero? Maybe walk to breakfast with her and laugh over…” Arvel hesitated. “Actually, I don’t know what you’d laugh over. Swords, maybe? Fyn likes swords.”
A tiny quirk of a smile flittered across Myth’s lips. “You make My Princess Gwendafyn sound like a rusticated brute.”
“That’s because she is,” Arvel grumbled.
“You! Take that back!” Myth poked him in the side.
Arvel relaxed as more of the calm weariness Myth had been wearing ever since she’d seen the library drained away. “No. Once you face her with a bladed weapon you can tell me to stop, but I still have the bruises she inflicted on me from this morning’s dagger practice!”
Myth rolled her eyes, but said nothing more as they passed through a stone archway draped with Calnorian flags.
The Honor Guards standing watch there—at the entrance of the royal wing—saluted Arvel as he passed. He smiled at them and looked back at the long line of Honor Guards following them again.
He shook his head and murmured to Myth, “I feel like we’re leading a parade.”
“There is no ‘we’ in this matter,” Myth said. “It is all you.”
“Oh, no.” Arvel chortled in glee. “You missed it—you’re getting at least half of our fine escort.”
“Why?”
“Because my harpy of a mother also happens to be housed in the royal wing, and I want at least ten swords between you and her at all times,” Arvel said.
“This could be easily solved by simply not housing me in the royal wing.”
“Yes, but maybe I want the chance to possibly step into the hallway the same time as you so we can laugh as we walk to breakfast together.”
Myth peered up suspiciously at Arvel with the same cagey look she used whenever he got overly flirtatious. She watched him for a moment or two before her posture straightened once she was assured he wasn’t going to jump her in the middle of the hallway.
It is such fun provoking her—and very enjoyable, too.
“I am glad you are in such high spirits,” she wryly said.
Arvel motioned for her to take a turn at an intersection and follow him up a different hallway. “Indeed. But I wanted to ask, how are you feeling?”
Myth opened her mouth, but Arvel could tell by the return of that cursed elven calmness that she was going to give him a useless platitude, so he added, “The truth, Myth.”
She shut her mouth with enough force that Arvel heard her teeth click.
He tried to discreetly slow down and prolong their walk with a slower pace, but judging by the flat look she gave him, he hadn’t hidden the transition as well as he thought.
“I’m upset,” she said after a few moments. “The library is…important to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Myth narrowed her eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. The Fultons did all of this. They deserve the blame and the consequences.”
“Yes…but I’m still remorseful this happened,” Arvel said. “Even though I can’t regret the investigation—the Fultons need to be brought to justice—I can’t tell you how much I regret that this has harmed you in any way.”
“Thank you,” Myth said. “But I don’t mourn my role in this. And I wouldn’t change a thing. Working with you has been a joy.”
Arvel didn’t dare look at her. If she was even half as adorable as she sounded, there was a high possibility he’d kiss her in front of the Honor Guards.
That wouldn’t be so bad, but I’m pretty sure she’d give me a lecture about workplace appropriateness, and quite possibly hit me. I’ve been careful not to push her too far with my flirting…mostly because I know she won’t hesitate to give me a set