The Green-Eyed Prince: A Retelling of The Frog Prince (The Classical Kingdoms Collection Novellas Book 1) by Brittany Fichter

Author:Brittany Fichter [Fichter, Brittany]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BrittanyFichterFiction.com
Published: 2017-09-05T23:00:00+00:00

9

Questionable Duty

Unable to eat after he had gone, Kartek sent the supper away. She put on her night dress and went to sit on her window seat, pulling her legs up beneath her chin and staring out at the moonlit landscape below. Twice there was a knock at the door, and both times her heart leapt into her throat. But the first was only the servant come to take the food, and the other was another servant to tell her that Commander Fadil’s captain was taking all able-bodied warriors with him to Maisef, with the exception of the contingent remaining to protect the palace.

“What shall I tell him in return, Jahira?”

“Tell Ahmos to move the people out of the city as best he can,” she replied without turning. “Flee to the west if possible. Hide if they can’t.”

The servant paused. “Of course, Jahira. But . . .”

“Yes?”

“If . . . if I may be so bold, the enchantress isn’t here yet, nor has she made known any intention of coming. Do you think she will really come here next? I mean, we are not a large city. Mightn’t she go to a larger one such as Shapina?”

“Nothing is for sure. Now go do as I say.”

The moon rose higher over the valley, but Dakarai didn’t return. Why did that bother her so much? He hadn’t really any right to be angry, not after what he’d done to her. He was the one who had forced her to marry against her will, after all.

She sighed and moved from one window to another, but it didn’t unseat the guilt that sat like a rock in her gut. That excuse for her anger, blaming him for everything, was feeling used up, even for her. There was clearly much going on that she didn’t understand.

That Ahmos was right and the enchantress was involved somehow with Dakarai’s appearance, Kartek had no doubt. Still, she had looked for a sign of artifice in Darkarai’s face. Her father, after all, had taught her well how to discern deceitfulness. But she hadn’t been able to find any. There had been no unwillingness to look at her. He’d made eye contact repeatedly, even searching her face as though she knew the truth as well as he. No strange pauses, no throat clearing or touching of his nose or face. And whenever he had hidden his eyes, it had seemed to be out of shame more than anything else.

When he had touched her face, however . . . desire had taken her by surprise, radiating out from his fingertips to the rest of her body like the scorching rays of the noontime sun. And though she was loath to admit it, she had wanted him to kiss her. Badly. To take her face in his hands and hold her close.

The desire was disorienting. She hated Dakarai. She wanted him gone and to simply have the quiet stillness of her rooms to herself once more, a place where she could retire

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