Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,23
made everything worse. The pair had ridden together all day, sharing water and chatting like friends.
“Where is Yasir?” Niko grumbled.
“He’s been pacing the same spot for some time, building up to asking questions I have no intention of answering.”
“If you answered, maybe he’ll stop looking at you like you’re Aura’s gift to men,” Niko blurted. And immediately wished he hadn’t.
Vasili stared. “He what?”
By the three, why couldn’t he keep his foolish thoughts to himself? “How he looks at you sometimes,” he hastily explained, feeling heat warm his face, “I just thought, he might have propositioned you.”
Vasili blinked. “Propositioned me? In what way, Nikolas?”
“What fucking way do you think?”
“You think he wants to fuck?” Vasili’s mouth twitched.
“No, he wants to paint you,” Niko drawled sarcastically. He swallowed and was glad for the dark so Vasili didn’t see the heat on his face. He side-eyed the prince and caught sight of his lips tilted upward in a shallow smirk. “You’re screwing with me. You know exactly how he looks at you. Of course you do, you’re you.” Gods, it was time to stop talking before he buried himself deeper in the hole Vasili had dug for him.
A small, light laugh escaped the prince. “Of all the wonderful things you are, Nikolas, astute is not one of them.”
May Etara rip open the earth and swallow him down. “Forget I said anything. Forget this entire conversation.”
“How can I forget seeing you so flustered? Had I known the mention of sex would unbalance you so, I’d have made sure to discuss it before now. I assumed you were a man more… experienced.”
The shadows were too thick for Niko to fully read Vasili’s face, but he was definitely smiling. And damn if that little ache in Niko’s chest didn’t thaw into a strange kind of comforting warmth. Of course, Vasili was laughing at Niko’s expense.
That was enough personal talk. Niko clambered by Vasili and out of the wagon before Vasili could talk Niko further in circles.
“Nikolas?”
“Yes?” Niko reluctantly turned.
The prince smiled, and this time genuine humor glittered in his eye. “Tell Yasir to bring his whip.”
Niko showed Vasili his middle finger in a sign Yasir had taught him. When he turned his back on the prince, Vasili’s thick chuckle followed him into the dark.
Yasir didn’t ask his questions, and the night passed without event. At dawn, they wordlessly packed up and moved off, with Vasili on the driver’s bench beside Yasir.
Strange, spiked plants peppered the desert, and the clouds were few and far between.
Early afternoon, Vasili switched to riding Adamo. Yasir had given Vasili his wide-rimmed hat, which Vasili donned with a flash of a smile. The hat shielded his face and neck from the worst of the sun, but sweat plastered Vasili’s filthy white shirt to his back and shoulders.
Niko suffered too, wilting under the heat as he’d assumed Vasili would. Loreen’s hottest day was half this forge-like temperature. The horses would need water soon.
Niko’s mood soured with every plodding hour. He watched Vasili and Yasir share the water pouch and listened to Yasir’s aimless chatter. Finally, in the late afternoon, the desert gave way to lush greenery. Trees with fan-like leaves frequently dotted the horizon, but the air dragged like water over Niko’s lips, becoming cloying.
“There she is…” Yasir called. “The ocean, see her?”
Between the green hills ahead, Niko did see a turquoise splash of color. Only a few clouds dotted the sky. The rest was a wash of blue as far as the eye could see.
“Deceptive isn’t it,” Yasir added. “Looks close.”
“How long until we reach Seran?”
“Ten days, maybe. The road gets tough from here on out.”
Like it hadn’t already been tough. Gods, Niko was saddle sore, hungry for something that wasn’t rice cakes, and in dire need of a bath.
Vasili and Adamo plodded ahead. The prince had barely said a word to Niko since their conversation in the back of the wagon.
“I, er… been meaning to ask.” Yasir wiped at his sweating face. “I tried talking with him, but Varian has a knack for talking around a subject.”
Niko snorted. “You have no idea.”
Rocking with the wagon, Yasir wet his lips and took a moment to continue. “How much of the south did your mah tell you?”
“She barely spoke of it.”
Yasir narrowed his eyes on Vasili. “There’s a story—a legend of sorts. A woman called Zarqa’ al-Yamama could see the future, among other things.” Yasir noticed what must have been an incredulous look on Niko’s face. “There is a point to this tale.”