Page 95 of Thief of Hearts

We arrived at our room and the steward opened the door. The room was large and simple. One massive bed, two trunks, a table and chairs. A couch, a mirror, and a fireplace.

“I hope this is to your liking,” the steward said.

It didn’t smell like death like the back of that cart had, so it was already a thousand times better. But what would Lia say? “This will do.”

Her lips tightened. “And obviously your manservant will stay in here with you.”

“Obviously,” I agreed. What? Why weren’t they putting him in the servants’ quarters?

“Should you require anything, you can send your manservant to retrieve us.”

What would a queen say next? I settled on, “Thank you.”

She nodded and left the room.

Zain chuckled to himself as he set Dagger down. Dagger ran under the bed and hid. I told myself not to ask why he had laughed, that I didn’t care, but it didn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “What’s so funny?”

“You keep telling everyone that I’m your manservant.”

“So?”

“That means something different here. It means I service you,” he said.

“Yes, I understand what a servant does.”

“No,” he said, stifling another bark of laughter. “It means my one job is to fulfill your sexual needs.”

I blinked at him repeatedly. I had just been announcing to the entire world that Zain was only here to have sex with me when I demanded it. Epirians were the worst. Goddess, this whole ordeal was terrible.

“Would you like to use the washroom first?” he asked, and the tone he used, the sound of his voice, took me back to before I knew what he really was. It was the kind of question he might have asked me when we’d shared a room during the tournament.

An innocuous and harmless one that now felt like a double-edged sword.

I shook my head and sat on the edge of the bed. He went into the washroom and closed the door. There was a sound and I had to strain to listen. Was he . . . singing?

We were prisoners in a foreign land and he was singing.

Resolving to put him out of my mind, I focused on my surroundings. The bed was very soft and comfortable, nicer than almost any other I’d ever used.

And everything in this room was here because someone had stolen it.

I took the laurel crown off my head and placed it on a table. Then I stood up and began walking around, investigating. I checked the windows but they were sealed shut and did not open. No escape route there.

Once I had ascertained the only way out was through the door, I tried to find something else to do. I did not sit in rooms like this. I had no patience for it. I didn’t have a weapon to train with. There were some ugly murals on the wall that did not interest me. I saw books on the shelves near the fireplace but that didn’t do me any good.

All I had were my thoughts. How had I gotten into this situation?

I was here because Zain had drugged me and stolen from me.

The Dracanians were already looking for you. They would have found you eventually.

That voice sounded suspiciously like Lia’s. And I dismissed her assertion. I would never know if that was true.

At least he’s here with you and you’re not alone.

I would rather he weren’t here. If he hadn’t been with me and the Dracanians had found me, I wouldn’t have gone with them. I would have fought until I couldn’t fight any longer. This felt cowardly and I didn’t like it.

So . . . you’re saying that Zain saved your life.