Scarred(Never After #2)(18)

Instead, I grabbed the opportunity and made my way here, hoping to find someone working in the kitchens. I want to meet the people who are the true eyes and ears of the castle. Ingrain myself in their loyalty, so when the time comes, I can depend on them. And that’s how I ended up sitting at a large metal table in a room the size of a house, with Paul, one of the castle’s cooks, banging on pots and pans while he makes me tea and an afternoon snack.

“Honestly.” Paul wipes his brow, his auburn hair held back beneath a netted cap. “You’re gorgeous, milady, but your pretty eyes make me nervous when you watch me like that.”

I smile, tapping my nails on the table’s top. “No need to be nervous, Paul. I like your company already.”

“You do?” he asks, spinning around from the stove. “Of course you do. I mean—” He huffs before throwing his arm across his belly and bowing at the hips. “Thank you, milady.”

Amusement bubbles in my chest. “You know, you don’t have to be so proper when it’s just the two of us.”

“Forgive me.” He smiles. “I’m not used to royals coming down here to socialize.” He walks toward me, plopping a plate down on the table and gesturing toward the dish.

I grin back, leaning across the metal surface. “Well… I think you’ll find I’m not quite like the other royals.”

“Technically,” a smooth voice cuts in. “You’re not a royal at all.”

My spine bristles, every single hair follicle standing on end as Prince Tristan appears out of nowhere, his lips tipped up in that infuriatingly lazy grin, his eyes zoned in on me.

Paul gasps, dropping to a knee. “Your Highness.”

“Hello, Paul. Keeping our soon-to-be queen company?”

Surprise flickers through me. I hadn’t expected him of all people to be on a first name basis with the servants. Most people aren’t.

“So what if he is?” I cut in.

He turns to me, his eyes flashing. I sit straighter in my chair.

“Then I suppose he’s the lucky one today, isn’t he?”

My stomach flips as he steps in close. “Always in places I shouldn’t find you, aren’t you, little doe?”

My shoulders straighten. “There’s nothing wrong with getting to know the people who breathe life into the castle walls.”

His brows rise. “I agree.”

A muffled thud from the opposite side of the room soars through the air, breaking our eye contact as I twist to face the wall. “What was that?”

No one answers me.

Scooting back from the table, I stand, grabbing the front of my skirts as I walk toward where the noise came from. Another thud, this time louder, and I’m sure it’s coming from inside the walls. I spin around, my eyes locking on Tristan. “What’s behind here?”

He doesn’t respond, leaning against the corner of the table, crossing his feet and smirking.

My jaw tenses. “Paul?”

Paul wrings his hands together in front of his oversized belly. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

I quirk a brow when another thud hits. “You don’t hear that?”

“Maybe there’s something wrong with your ears,” Tristan suggests.

“My hearing is just fine, thank you.” My eyes narrow. “Stop making me feel crazy.”

He straightens off the table and moves closer until he’s standing in front of me, his shadow dwarfing mine. “Do I have that much power over you already?”

“I haven’t given you any power,” I seethe, my hand itching to reach out and smack the grin off his face.

He tsks, shaking his head. “That’s the thing about power, ma petite menteuse. It’s never given freely. You have to take it.”

“You speak French?” I don’t know what he just called me, but the way it flowed off his tongue like silky chocolate makes my insides quake.

He smirks. “I’m a prince.”

His arm rises, and my breath sticks in my lungs, waiting for the searing heat of his touch, but it never comes. Instead, he presses his hand next to my head. There’s a loud creak and then the wall is moving, an entryway appearing as if it’s formed out of thin air. My eyes grow wide as I twist to face it, staring into a darkened tunnel; its walls made of rock as if the castle has melded its insides within the mountain it sits on.

“Lady.”

My hand moves to my chest, my mind whirling with questions. Do the tunnels only exist within the buildings? Do they go underground to town? Who all knows of them?

“Hey lady, you’re stepping on my sword.”

I’m jolted into the present, my eyes swinging down into the light-brownish-orange gaze of a child.

“Oh.” I step back, my foot releasing the toy sword trapped beneath me. “I’m so sorry.”

My corset digs into my ribs as I lean down to pick it up, staying crouched as I hold it in my hands. “Are you a knight?” I ask.

His chest puffs out, a small smudge of what looks like black soot streaked across his brown skin. “I’m the king.”

“Oh.” My eyes widen, and I raise my hand to my head. “Of course, I should have known. You look the part of a mighty king.”

Bowing my head, I hold out his toy. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”