Tornado of Nightmares (Book 2)

eleven

♤ Honour ♤

"I WIN!" ALASTAIR CHORTLES.

I groan and throw my cards down on the table. Dominic shakes his head, mocking woe. Al grins like he has a clothes hanger stuck in his mouth. He's been beating me broke. Good thing I only keep pocket cash on me now. I learned my lesson once, never again will I grab more than that. For a fourteen-year-old, he sure is good at card games.

Fran gives Alastair a kiss on the cheek. "You'll be filled with riches one day if you continue to play like this." She brushes the hair out of his face. She looks serene. Like a goddess. She could very well be one, for all I know.

It's been three weeks since leaving Lodashine and staying at the palace. It hasn't been all bad. Fran and I became unlikely friends. It all started with me asking her if she'd like to join me for lunch, I had warned her that my brother and his friends would be there and that they'd probably juke her out of her own coin, she had laughed and followed me. She's eaten with us ever since.

I don't eat with the rest of the guards. Well, for starters, they hate me. Like, burn me on a pyre hate me. Apparently, before I arrived, the guards had been fighting and working "hard" for the position I now have. They weren't exactly pleased when a "five foot nothing girl" showed up and didn't have to "work" for anything. They don't think I'm capable of keeping the Prince safe. They don't think I can do anything. Fine, let them believe that. But when the time comes—I'll kill every single one of them.

Lunch is my only time off, and I can only sleep when the Prince goes to sleep. And the bastard loves to stay awake 'till the early hours of the morning. I've tried my hardest not to throttle him. It's been so hard. He's so arrogant and vain and cocky. He also loves to bring up that night we shared together. No matter how many times I tell him it was a mistake—he never listens. He doesn't believe me. He says I want him. That I think about him.

I've been thinking about him for years, but not in the way he wants.

I don't know what I'm still doing here, to be honest. The witch—Reighla—wanted me to become his personal guard. She sent word for me to protect him—for now. Apparently, they're worried about him leaving the castle, she doesn't think it is wise for me to kill him right this second. I don't think it's logical to kill him right now, either. Alastair really likes it here, I hate to remind him that this isn't permanent, but he seems to forget. He gets his hopes up that maybe, just maybe, I'll let go of my revenge and put it all behind me. But I can't, not even if I wanted to. The witch hired me to do a job, and a job I must do.

I'm still waiting for her message. Signaling me to go for the kill. But none has come.

And if matters could not get any worse.

Someone clunks down on the bench beside me.

I know it's him without looking.

"So," he drawls, "this is where you've been hiding at lunch,"

I roll my eyes and scooch away from him. Dominic and Alastair sit up straighter. Dominic looks like he might just pass out, but Al looks wary. He looks between me and the Prince, brows drawing together.

Lawrence turns his head to me, our eyes lock. Deep blue seas hold my dark abyss. His lips curve in a wicked smile, I want to shove my fist into my mouth and bite down on my knuckles. Why does he insist on being friends with me? Can't he see the contempt I have for him? The disdain?

Apparently not.

"Is this your brother?" asks the Prince.

I nod my head and turn away. "Yes. This is Alastair and his friend—Dominic."