A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(66)

My pulse abnormally quick, I answer, “You’re clearly in charge no matter who’s Alpha. And they need to work on their curtsies—and who to give them to. People will laugh when they see them wobbling like that.”

“Who cares what people think?”

“You care. The second people laugh at you, it’s over. You took this on, now you all have to play the parts. Flawlessly. Or else…” I make a throat-slitting motion.

“Can you teach them court etiquette?”

“Seriously? Now I have to play nursemaid as well?”

“Can you?” he repeats evenly.

I hesitate. Becoming a personal princess trainer could work to my advantage. “For a price.”

Griffin’s tone hardens. “What price?”

“If Fisan or Tarvan royalty come here, I stay hidden. Same thing for their top advisors.”

“Invisible hidden? Or not-in-the-room hidden?”

I look at him like he’s left his only bucket at the well. “Invisible hidden. I won’t be much use detecting lies if I can’t hear them.”

He studies me for a moment, as if assessing my motives, and then agrees.

Huh. That was easy. “Is that a promise?”

He nods. “It’s a promise.”

In the waning light, his gray eyes are darker, softer, but still magnetic. I tear my gaze away before I give in to any ridiculous urges, like being nice to him. “Can I have a bath now? I need to wash off that cave.”

I don’t mean the dust, and Griffin knows it. His expression flattens in an instant, and the sinking, hollow feeling in my stomach feels a lot like regret.

We stable the horses behind the barracks and then make our way across a second, smaller courtyard. “You’re welcome to use the royal bathhouse.” Griffin points toward an arched entryway, his voice unbearably neutral.

I scan the buildings. “Where’s the women’s pool?” A quarter of the soldiers spilling out of the barracks were women. Unusual, but not unheard of.

He points to our left. “It’ll be crowded. There are over a hundred women in the barracks. You’ll have more privacy in the royal bathhouse.”

True, but the idea of sharing his family’s personal space is just too awkward.

“Cat?” Flynn calls.

I turn, and he grabs me, his big arms squashing my ribs.

“Ow! You big oaf! What are you doing?”

Kato snatches my ankles and swings them up. Carver leads the way, whistling a marching tune, and they start toward the royal bathhouse, Griffin trailing behind.

“What’s going on?” I curse, wiggling helplessly. Well, not exactly helplessly with all the Fire Magic I have stored up, but I don’t want to maim or kill anyone, either.

“Initiation,” Griffin says tersely. “Don’t bother struggling.”

Ten seconds later, Kato and Flynn toss me into the water, boots and all. Fuming, I sink to the bottom of the pool and stay there until my lungs nearly burst, watching the smug looks on their faces veer toward concern.

“Gods, Cat!” Kato says when I finally surface. “You’re the last person I thought we’d drown.”

I spit an enormous mouthful of water at him. Kato uses his dusty forearm to wipe off his face, leaving it streaked with mud, and I can’t help laughing when he gives me a huge grin from behind whiskers and grime.

“Don’t take long. We’re next,” Griffin says in clipped tones.

“At least you didn’t all strip naked and jump in with me,” I joke.

Kato chuckles. “Maybe next time.”

“Out!” Griffin barks.

“Did you leave your sense of humor somewhere?” I ask, treading water and trying to take my boots off at the same time.

Granite eyes flash to mine. “It must be in the cave.”

*

I can live in the castle or the barracks. I choose the barracks, but instead of being housed in the women’s wing, I’m given the room between Kato and Flynn. I guess Griffin wasn’t bluffing about everyone keeping an eye on me.

Griffin lives in the castle, and as I settle into my new room, I feel annoyingly dejected. I was getting used to his solid presence, hearing him breathe in the dark. I’ll miss sleeping through the night.

Alone and bored, I take a nap because it’s impossible to resist the bed. Later, Griffin arrives, cleaned up, shaved, and looking striking in much finer clothes than I’ve seen him in before. He informs me that I’m having dinner in the castle and then shepherds me across the courtyard with a firm hand on my lower back, nudging when I balk at the entrance to the formal dining room.

“I’m not dressed enough,” I mutter, digging in my heels.

He looks me over. “You look dressed to me. I recall a lot more skin when you’re not.”

The blush that instantly hits my face sparks a teasing gleam in his eyes. Once it’s back, I realize how much I missed it.

“And a few freckles over here,” he adds, trailing his fingertips up my ribs and coming dangerously close to the swell of my breast.

A wave of pure heat crashes over me, and I jerk away from his hand. “I’m about to dine with Sintan royalty. Not that I take any of you seriously, but there is such a thing as tradition.”

He shrugs. “I’m wearing pants.”