Page 188 of North Queen
He seemed to waver on his words. “Does it bother you?” His eyes searched hers. “Does it bother you that it’s on my body?”
He was worried about how she felt about it. His concern quieted the churning inside her. It calmed her mind. “No.” She looked at his chest, now covered in bandaging and his tunic. “At least I have an image of it now.”
He raised a brow. “Do you always do this?”
“Do what?”
“Look for the best in everything?”
She struggled for words. What else was she to do?
He gave a gentle smile as he offered his arm, and she slipped her hand into its warmth.
Norah stood in her sanctuary, looking at Catherine’s letter—the letter Alexander had given her a week ago—still unopened. She should read it. But not yet. She didn’t know what was keeping her, but just… not yet.
The door of the chamber opened behind her. “Salara,” Vitalia said, and Norah turned. She held out a folded parchment, a wide smile on her face.
“What’s this?” Norah asked as she opened it. When she saw the image, she gasped. The image of her mother’s crown.
“I thought you’d want it,” Vitalia said.
“Where did you get this?”
“The lord commander sent a detachment out this morning. Each soldier holds a copy. They’re tasked with finding it.”
Norah’s eyes widened.
“There’s even a reward for citizens,” Vitalia added.
“The lord commander?”
Her maid raised a brow with a shrug. “I know.”
This man continued to confuse her. Norah couldn’t believe she was about to do this, but she took the parchment and left to find the commander.
He sat in his study, finishing a letter. Norah had never been in the room before. It looked much like Alexander’s in Mercia—a large desk covered in parchments, cabinets full of books and records. When he saw her, he didn’t rise. She bit the inside of her cheek. He was always testing her, always trying to show her she didn’t have complete power.
She would overlook it, partly because she didn’t have the energy to argue with him and partly because she was here to thank him. She was already rethinking the latter. But maybe this could be the start of a civil relationship. He was lord commander of the Kharavian army, and she was salara. They couldn’t hate each other forever.
“Do you need something, North Queen?” His voice was rough and unwelcoming.
He didn’t call her Salara, something she had yet to correct him on. She didn’t know why she hadn’t. Each time he used it, she felt she lost more ground to demand it of him. She hated it. But she still couldn’t bring herself to correct him, even now. Especially now. She looked down at the folded parchment in her hand, reminding herself why she was here.
“Yes, um, I…” Why was this so hard? “I heard you sent a detachment out this morning and—”
“I do as I’m bid,” he said gruffly, cutting her off.
Of course. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her assumption the kindness had come from him. Of course it had been Mikael. And here she was, making a fool of herself, giving him more power. Her embarrassment turned to anger. “You know, a gracious person would just allow someone to say thank you. Maybe politely credit another.”
His brow furrowed. “Do you take me for a gracious person?” He almost seemed offended. “And did you really want to thank me?”
“Idid,” she answered, her voice rising. “But I obviously don’t now.”
“Well, you’re welcome for that, then.”
She snorted. This man was unbelievable. “You’re an asshole.”
He raised a brow. “Is that all?”
