Page 31 of The Desert King's Spy (Magic and Kings 2)
I shot him a look. “I will not be nice. It’s your fault I’m in this forsaken place instead of at home, grieving my family. I could have died because the king of this land doesn’t know how to keep his roads safe for travelers.”
Jrijori gaped. “Um, Sharia, you really shouldn’t disparage the king.”
“Why not? This is his country. His duty to keep people safe. A task obviously too difficult for this idiot to comprehend. Especially since the proof lies up that road.” I aimed that last part at the rude soldier. “Send someone and they’ll see I’m telling the truth, and then maybe you’ll be fired for incompetence.”
“You’re correct. Your story can be quickly proven.” The man snapped his fingers. “Go and find where they spent the night. I’ll want a report.” The soldiers took off down the road. “We’ll know shortly how much of what you said is fabrication.”
The nerve of this man had me burning. “It’s all true, or do you think I like looking like this?” I hissed. “And I can’t even change since I lost all my belongings. Add in the fact I’m hungry, thirsty, tired, and very annoyed and there is a strong chance I will begin to murder people very soon.”
“I’ll take you to an inn,” Daisy offered.
But the soldier who remained held up his hand. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll escort you to your chambers in the castle.” He held out his hand.
“First you insult me and now you expect me to ride with you? Ha.” I didn’t bother to hide my disdain.
“Excuse me for trying to save you what is a very long walk.”
He had a point. Still, I didn’t know enough about Southern etiquette to know if that was acceptable. If I went by the norms I’d been raised with, then it was a no because he was a stranger.
Clearing his throat, Jrijori—whose eyes actually twinkled with mirth—managed to say, “Go with the King, Sharia. He means you no harm.”
The King? Oops.
A sharp glance at the veiled head showed me nothing. I only had the vaguest idea what the King looked like, given he never left the castle without a face covering, which changed color to make it harder for assassins to identify him.
“Uncle, are you sure he’s the King? Because he appears very much like the other soldiers that just left.”
“It’s intentional.” The King’s brief explanation. “Now, are you coming or walking?” The fingers aimed in my direction flexed impatiently.
I glanced at Jrijori. A proper girl would ask to ride with a relative. “I’m sure my uncle can manage to get me to my rooms.”
Jrijori shook his head. “I’ll never be able to control this beast with you stinking atop it. It’s all I can do to keep it from bolting.”
“Like I told you in the stables, you need to show it who is master,” the King stated.
Jrijori’s mount chose that moment to buck, and he barely held on.
It gave me the excuse I needed to reluctantly accept the King’s offer. “Seems like I have no choice but to go with you.” I remained disgruntled because it would look more suspicious if I suddenly turned syrupy sweet.
“Be nice to the King,” Jrijori shouted as his iguamel bolted, with him doing his best to not fall off.
“Listen to your uncle.”
I glanced at the veiled stranger and cocked my head. “Or what? Can’t handle criticism?”
“You’re lucky I’m the benevolent type, or you’d be seeing my face only at your execution.”
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t keep pushing. I knew better. I’d never charm him if I kept behaving like a shrew. Still, an abrupt about face now wouldn’t ingratiate myself. Call it a hunch.
“Sorry, Your Highness.” I only dripped with a little bit of sarcasm. I held out my hand, and he heaved me onto his saddle.
His iguamel balked and sidestepped. My smell even had the King muttering, “I will have to burn this shirt. I like this shirt.”
“Don’t blame me. Blame your poor patrolling of the roads.” Not exactly fair since monsters that could tunnel underground could basically pop up anywhere.
“And here I thought Weztrogian women were tougher.” He insulted me in return.
“Only half,” I declared.