“Get back?” he asked.
“I’ve been summoned.”
“I see.” Maxim eyed her up and down. “You’re wearing that?”
“What’s wrong with this? It’s my nicest outfit.”
“It’s not very courtly.”
“Well, he demanded me to come now so this is what he gets.” She snatched a bottle of vanilla oil from the shelf next to her bed and dabbed it on her wrists and at the base of her throat. “Does that make you happy?”
“Lower your voice,” Dima admonished, moving to the end of her bed. He crossed his arms and stared her down. “You need to be careful.”
He had no idea. She smiled grimly. “Believe me, I am.”
“Tell us what has happened over the last few weeks, lass,” Maxim said. “We know that you’ve been sent on missions for the king, but that’s the extent of it.”
“Ask Madrid.” She wouldn’t breathe a word of any of it. Plus, there was a chance that her uncles were part of the mimkia ring. Winter’s bite, she hated doubting them. Tempest tied her wrist sheaths on.
“We have. He’s said nothing,” Dima bit out. “You shouldn’t be out there on your own. You may have won your trials, but you’re still a novice. Dealing with traitors to the realm is very different than training in the ring.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“We’re not trying to antagonize you, lass,” Maxim said.
“I have faced nothing I could not handle,” she interrupted, trying her best to make the smile on her face somewhat genuine. She strapped her last dagger into place at her hip. “And on the subject of the king… I will be late, if I don’t leave now. And you and I both know it’s unwise to keep the king waiting.” She shoved her feet into her boots. “I’ll be back soon.”
Tempest squeezed Dima’s arm once as she passed him, before moving to the door and tossing her cloak over her shoulders. She pulled open the door and tugged up the hood of her cloak, her wet hair chilly against her skin.
To the lion’s den we go.
Reaching the king’s chambers happened far too quickly. What disturbed her the most was that she hadn’t seen another living soul. Usually, a servant escorted her, but not this time. Something wasn’t right. Her heart picked up speed, thumping against her chest. She stared at the heavy wooden doors that served as the entrance to the king’s chambers and took a few seconds to steady her breathing. Destin was only a man. She was a trained assassin. If he tried anything, she’d kill him. Plain and simple. True, she’d have to flee for her life, but she could always live in the Fire Isles as a pirate. The weather was supposed to be delightful.
You’d never run away.
She knocked on the door, her nerves on edge. A second of silence. Two. And then—
“Come in,” a deep voice called.
Well, here goes nothing.
Gathering all the willpower she could muster, Tempest opened the door. His chamber was exactly as she remembered it. She moved into the room and managed not to flinch as the heavy doors slammed behind her. The king stood by the stained-glass window at the back of his chambers, his signature tumbler of fire whiskey dangling negligently between his fingers.
“Your Majesty,” Tempest said, bowing politely, her stomach twisting. “It has been a while.”
She straightened and locked eyes with Destin. Wicked hell, he was handsome for a psychopath.
“Don’t just stand by the door.” He crooked a finger at her. “It has indeed been a while,” he said, his tone playful and yet edgy. Not a good combination. “Too long. I have missed your radiant presence around the palace, Tempest.”
Tempest had the sense to look abashed. A small smile flittered across her face. “You flatter me, King Destin.”
He chuckled and shook his head like she was the most amusing creature in the world. What a crock.
“This is exactly what I missed,” he said. “How have you been these past few weeks, my Lady Hound? The rebels haven’t been giving you too much trouble, I hope?”
“It was nothing I could not handle,” she said, repeating the same line she’d fed to Maxim and Dima. “If you wish me to debrief you on the matter now, I’m happy to oblige.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” the king said quickly, laughing again. “That’s what I love about you. Always right to the point, and yet, such business can wait.”
That was new. She frowned, her nerves ratcheting up a notch. “Then why, may I ask, am I here?” If he didn’t want to know about the rebels, then that meant it was personal. She was very thankful she’d worn her trousers and not a dress.
The king approached her, his steps prowling. He reached for her hands and took them in his own.
Oh, bloody hell, this wasn’t good.
His thumb ran over the top of her right hand. “All I have been able to think about is our encounter before you left.” He licked his lips, and her stomach dropped. “So, I have a question for you, Tempest. An offer, if you will.”
“Whatever do you mean, Your Majesty?” Tempest asked, feeling lightheaded.
Destin leaned in closer until his lips were but an inch from hers, his golden gaze smoldering. “Marry me.”
Oh, no.
Twenty
Tempest
Tempest blinked repeatedly, mouth gaping as she stared wordlessly at the king. He raised an eyebrow at her. She couldn’t have heard him right.
“Something the matter, my lady?” he asked.
Sweet poison, he was serious. She pushed through her shock. The weeks she’d spent surrounded by liars and thieves weren’t for nothing. Tempest curtseyed, the movement awkward as she was wearing trousers. “I am honored, sire, truly. But I… am wary about accepting such an offer, wonderful though it may be.”
“Oh?” Destin drawled.
Oh stars, how was she supposed to turn him down without him ripping everything dear from her? Scorned kings were not known for their mercy. “See, I am afraid that I will be criticized as a Hound for being romantically involved with the king,” she began. “You must see how it looks, Your Majesty. The first female Hound, with only a few months of missions under her belt and already on the war council, now engaged to the king? It may be… unsavory for your reputation, and I would never want to bring reproach to the Crown.” She bowed her head lower, staring at the decorative rug beneath her boots.
“There’s no need for that, my dear.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and arranged what she considered a proper smile onto her face. Please, please, let him not see right through me. Tempest opened her eyes and straightened. “I’ve striven to be completely honest with you.” A bold-faced lie. “I would be a liar if I didn’t tell you that it would also damage my credit as one of your faithful Hounds. I live my life to serve you, my liege.”
The king's face softened, and he nodded in apparent understanding. “Of course,” he said. “I was so excited to ask for your hand in marriage that I had not considered how this might affect you.” He reached out and brushed a finger along the apple of her cheek. “I must admit, it’s been a long time since I’ve taken into account the wishes of someone other than my councilors.”