Amongst Thieves

11.

He was devastatingly beautiful.

Beneath the dark brown hair that refused to get out of his face were eyes bluer than the afternoon sky. His nose had a crooked bump that looked like it had been broken once and his almost perfect face was marked with a scar, white on his tan skin that ran from his left cheekbone to his jaw.

He was leaning against the bookshelf in such a manner that Maize would need to brush past him to continue on her way and she wasn't sure if being that close to him would leave her wanting to tear off his clothes or give him a scar to match the one he already had.

"Can I help you find something?" he asked, though his intonation insinuated he most likely wouldn't help at all.

"I was just looking," Maize said cooly before adding, "for a book."

"Being in a library I'm sure you'll find one."

"You're most definitely right."

"Why were you watching me?" he asked just as smoothly.

"Why were you talking to yourself?" Maize blurted.

He gave her a slow grin that neither confirmed nor denied her accusation. He did, however, keep those blue eyes trained wholly and completely on her. Mustering up years of training, Maize didn't flinch, didn't try to meld into the shadows. She matched his gaze.

His smile broadened.

"Are you here for the celebration then?"

"I'm a courtier to Prince Laris," she corrected, the lie becoming truth the more often she said it.

"You and half the people in the castle at the moment," he mused. "I wonder if he knew how many would be so willing to lay their service at his feet if he would have come home sooner. Did he choose you himself or were you assigned?"

"I have no input into the selection process." Not a lie.

"I'm sure you don't." His voice purred as he maintained her gaze, but it was almost like he was assessing her, trying to take her in for who she was. She didn't feel threatened by him, but there was something about his presence that Maize felt drawn to, and she didn't like it.

"What about you?" she asked, trying to deflect the focus from her purpose in the castle. "Or are you just here to talk to the books so they don't feel lonely and misused?"

A chuckle. "Oh, I'm here for the Prince as well."

She arched a brow. Something in her didn't think the King would deem men to make courtiers in a conservative royal family— Ress' treatment by his own family on the common level made her all the more defensive if it. "Then, I assume we'll be seeing much of each other these next couple of weeks."

"I expect it."

They stared at each other a few moments longer. Nothing in Maize sparked the fight or flight reaction. That concerned her more than anything. There was nothing extraordinary about him, and yet something in her yearned to want to know more. A notion the stored away for a leter time, Perhaps, since he seemed to know his way around the library so well, she could use him to assist in her research for the Legacy. Maybe...

"I shouldn't delay you any longer then," he said after a few more unawkward moments of silence. "I'm sure with the arrival of the Prince, you have much to do to prepare for the ball tonight."

"I— yes," she stammered, though even she was uncertain what she'd need to do to prepare. "As I'm sure you will have plenty to do as well. For the Prince. To get ready for the ball."

"Of course."

Despite his dismissal, he didn't move to let her pass. Nor did she move to leave. One of them would need to waver but neither seemed to want to be the first. A challenge of wills, or maybe more...