“I don’t care for having my private letters read,” Lara argued, only because he’d expect it.
“And I don’t overly care to read them,” Aren snapped. “But we must all do things we don’t care to do, so I suggest you get used to it.” And without another word, he shoved back his chair and exited the room with a slight sway to his step.
Ahnna let loose a world-weary sigh. Pulling the cork from another bottle of wine, she filled Lara’s glass to the brim. “At Southwatch, this is what we call an Ahnna pour.”
Despite knowing that the woman’s behavior was an act to earn her trust, Lara smiled, taking a mouthful of the liquid. “Is he always this quick to temper?” she asked, even as she thought, Is he always this much of a prick?
The smile on the other woman’s face fell away. “No.” There was a slight slur to her voice, and she frowned at her glass. “God, how much of this did I drink?”
“Amarid makes the finest wines in the world—hard not to indulge.”
Moments later, Ahnna’s chin hit the table with a heavy thud. One of the servants entered at that precise moment, his jaw dropping at the sight of his princess snoring at the dinner table.
“Overindulged,” Lara said with a grimace. “Will you help me get her to her room?”
Ahnna was deadweight between the two of them as they half dragged, half carried her down the hallway and into her room, which was as lovely as Lara’s own.
“If you hold her, Majesty, I’ll check the sheets for snakes.”
Snakes? The thought distracted Lara enough that she nearly fell sideways under Ahnna’s weight when the boy let go. He walked over to the bed and gave it a solid kick before flipping down the bedding, which was thankfully devoid of serpents.
Easing Ahnna onto the bed, Lara dodged a near kick to the face as the taller woman rolled onto her stomach with a muffled grumble. Jerking off her boot, which had a wicked-sharp blade concealed within it, Lara tossed it next to the bed, followed by the other, then dusted off her hands. “Thank you for your assistance,” she said to the boy, exiting the room and waiting for him to follow. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Eli, my lady. I should say, this isn’t normal for Ah . . . Her Highness.” He bit at his lower lip. “Perhaps I should let His Grace—”
“Let it be.” Lara closed the door. “No need to embarrass her further.”
The servant looked ready to argue, then Ahnna let out a loud snore, audible through the thick door, and seemed to think better of it. “Do you require anything else this evening, Your Grace?”
Lara shook her head, wanting him gone. “Goodnight, Eli.”
Bowing, he said, “Very good. Please check your bed for—”
“Snakes?” She gave him a smile that turned his cheeks pink against the soft brown curls of his chaotic hair. He bowed again before fleeing down the hallway. Lara listened for the clatter of dishes being removed from the dining room, then silently let herself back into Ahnna’s room, flipping the latch shut behind her.
The princess did not so much as twitch as Lara methodically searched for any information of use, sighing covetously at the woman’s arsenal of weapons, which were all of the finest make. But else of interest, there was nothing beyond a few keepsakes, a jewelry box with some worthless items, and a music box with a false bottom filled with poetry. A childhood bedroom now seldom used.
After turning down the lamp, Lara eased open the door to ensure the hall was empty before striding to her own room. There had been noise of activity at both ends of the hallway; no chance of her making it to the other side of the house without one of the servants noticing. Chewing on her thumbnail, Lara eyed the clock. The narcotic wasn’t intended to last long, and the king hadn’t indulged in wine to the extent his sister had. Which meant she was running short of time.
Slipping off her dress, Lara retrieved some toweling, along with soaps and scrubs and, lamp in hand, she stepped out into the courtyard. The night air was cool, a light mist of rain dampening her shift as she walked barefoot down the stone path toward the hot spring. Setting her bathing supplies next to the pool, Lara slid off her shift and slipped into the steaming water, taking one of her knives in with her. Then she turned down the lamp to a bare glow and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
The noise of the jungle managed to be both deafening and soothing, a ceaseless cacophony that settled the rapid patter of her heart as she rested her elbows on the edge of the pool, perusing her surroundings. The chittering of birds merged with the rustle of leaves, the sharp shrieks of monkeys called back and forth through the trees. A creature, perhaps a frog of sorts, made a repetitive rattling noise, insects droned, and mixed with it all was the gurgle of the waterfall behind her.
Watch. Listen. Feel.
The latter had always served her best. Master Erik had called it the sixth sense—the unconscious part of the mind that took what all the other senses provided, then added something more. An intuition that could be tuned and honed into the most valuable sense of all.
So whether she heard a sound or saw a motion, Lara could not have said, but her attention snapped from the roofline to the opening under the house through which the stream flowed.
Guard.
Sure enough, as she stared into the darkness, her eyes eventually picked out the shape of a foot resting against a rock. A flash of irritation that they’d dare to watch her while she bathed was erased by the obvious necessity. Aren was the King of Ithicana, and she was the daughter of an enemy kingdom. Of course any avenue between them would be guarded.
After ensuring there were no other guards, she marked the sightlines. Searched for places that would give her cover. She glanced at her white shift resting in clear sight and eased into the stream that drained the pool, crawling on her elbows to keep her body beneath the bank. Warm water caressed her naked body as she crept down to the decorative bridge, which she used as cover to ease out, moving silently behind a bush with wide leaves.
From there, she made quick work of crossing the courtyard, coming up beneath the king’s window, which was slightly ajar.
Adjusting a frond to cover her arm, she stretched upward and pulled the window open wider.
Breathe.
Reaching up with both arms, she heaved herself through the small gap, the frame scraping over her naked ass as she flipped, landing silently on her feet inside the dimly lit room, knife blade clenched between her teeth.
She was met by Aren’s cursed enormous cat staring at her with golden eyes. Lara held her breath, but the animal only leapt onto the windowsill and slipped out into the courtyard.
Her gaze went immediately to the man sprawled across the large, canopied bed. Aren lay on his back, wearing only a pair of undershorts, the sheets tangled around his lower legs.
Knife gripped in her hand, Lara stepped carefully toward the bed, using one of the rugs to clean her feet. No need to leave her tiny footprints.
There’d been no doubt in her mind after seeing him naked earlier that he was an impressive specimen of a man, but this time, she had no fear of being caught staring. Twice her breadth in the shoulders, he was muscled in the way of an individual who pushed his body to the limits on a regular basis. Combat, judging from the scars, but his leanness spoke of an active life, not a man who sat back and ruled from a throne.