Page 55 of A Spark So Bright
"That's about what Astrid said."
"I was arrogant. Thought far too highly of myself. Chased the king because I wanted to be the most important person in the room." She snorted. "I guess he did make me that. His favorite whore to hand off to all his advisors. Fuck, I'm glad he's dead."
A lot of emotions crossed Gunnar's features. One by one. Anger. Guilty. Back to anger. And then a strangely quizzical expression as he looked her over.
"What?" she asked.
"I don't like hearing you call yourself a whore. If he wasn't dead, I would like to kill him again for doing that to you. But also I'm shocked to hear you swear, and I appreciate how feral you are in your anger."
"Sorry. I shouldn't be angry, I suppose."
Anger wasn't productive. Anger made people do stupid things, like throwing a vase at a grown man's head and then getting in even more trouble than ever.
But Gunnar made a tsking sound. "Of course you should be angry. Fuck them with the wide end of a rake! They never shouldhave put their hands on you, and if I find them again, I'll bring them back and you can put that little kitchen knife of yours to good use."
"I'm not a killer."
"You already killed one man. What's a few more when you already know they don't deserve the air in their lungs?" He arched a brow at her until she gave a little shrug. "Exactly."
She stood there staring at him for a little longer, not quite knowing what to say. How did one continue a conversation with someone when they were literally talking about murdering people? Was she supposed to tell him that blood made her faint, and she'd need him to somehow give her the chance to kill them without any blood at all?
That was stupid. She was stupid. This whole conversation was.... well, not stupid at all. It had been very healing, but she wasn't going to tell him that.
He'd make that victorious expression, like he always did when he got somewhere with her. It was annoying.
Instead, she said, "I think I like talking with you, Gunnar."
"Good. I like talking to you as well." He gestured for her to walk ahead of him, back toward the gardens. "Surprisingly. I thought you'd be boring."
She shot him a look, and he laughed.
The sound of it was nice.
Twenty-Two
Gunnar
"You didn't miss too much while you were gone," Torbin said as they strode down the halls of the barracks.
He'd been filling in Gunnar for the past hour. Almost all the warriors had been sent out to manage the crowds now that the prince had returned. It had been a long few days since he’d returned. The trolls wanted to see their prince. They wanted to hold on to him like a trophy, proof that things were going to get better.
But the king wanted his son to settle back into this life without others disturbing him. He had good reason as well. The crowds never seemed to stop touching Magnus. And though the prince handled it all with surprising grace, he very clearly didn't like it.
Maybe Gunnar was a little sensitive about that lately, but he didn't think anyone should be touched if they didn't want to be touched. Not even the prince.
"Good," he grumbled, heading back toward his own bunk.
He wanted to sleep. First, he had to bathe, though. It had been a long day with a lot of moving parts. He was certain he smelled, and honestly the thought of crawling into clean sheets with his body already slick with sweat made his skin crawl.
"You're forgetting something," Torbin called out in a singsong voice.
Gunnar froze. "What am I forgetting?"
"Bridal games." Torbin nodded toward the window. "You're pretty close to late already. I was wondering why you were heading this way, and then figured you'd just forgotten you were competing. The king won't be happy if you aren't there. He postponed the next part of it until you got back with his son."
Gunnar groaned long and low. Of course the stupid fucking bridal games would be at night. He should have known better.
"Damn it," he hissed before turning around on his heel and heading toward the exit. "How long is this going to take?"
