Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 12: Fake Enemies

Nola rose from her chair to check on Minerva's side.

All evidence from Minerva's earlier scuffle with the Terron had vanished, only the holes in the wooden divider—more a screen than a wall—between her room and Nola's let her know it hadn't been part of the dream.

Minerva scrutinized the puckered, red wound. "Took it out, sewed it up?" she asked.

"You were out cold," Nola answered shortly, "Best time to do it." She gently slathered her healing cream over it and re-wrapped Minerva's abdomen with fresh bandages.

"Full report, Pyroline," Matsudo said once he'd deemed the silence to have extended long enough.

"I woke up, killed a Terron warrior, freed his lily, heaved my guts onto the floor, rescued my kat and a Hydro, and possibly killed twenty-six people while doing it," Minerva said in monotone.

"When did the cannon fire?" Matsudo responded with matching cadence.

"Somewhere around a dozen, I think ..."

His voice lowered. "Sooner then?"

"Yes." Minerva knew what they were all thinking. If the intermittent space continued to shorten, something might happen once the ends met.

Something drastic. She could lose her ability—or worse.

"If you will excuse me—"

All eyes swept to the Hydro prince.

He neared the bedside, where Matsudo and Minerva sat on the edge, and extended his hand.

Minerva hesitated but reached her hand out from the safety of the blankets and placed it in his grip.

"Kodak Nakoya, high prince of Polara," he said. His entire bearing radiated intensity.

Minerva tried to pull her hand away but he wouldn't let go. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "Minerva Pyroline, Imperial Heiress to the Pyro throne," she mumbled.

Nola let out an exasperated sigh.

Kodak knelt in front of her, still clasping her hand. "Why didn't you want to tell me?"

Because the world wants us to be enemies. Because my mother would kill you without second thought. There was no other place to look but at his face. Minerva hoped the honesty reflected in her eyes. "Because I didn't want you to be involved," she whispered.

He laughed. "I think it's too late now, though I do appreciate the gesture. I'm involved. Those who disapprove can sue me."

He smiles far too much, Minerva thought absently. A more skeptical thought followed. It's the sort of smile meant to win people over.

"How might I sue someone?" Minerva asked Matsudo.

The general gave a single chuckle and shook his head.

"Ah, if that's the way you feel." Kodak lifted Minerva's hand.

She stiffened as he let his lips hover just above her fingertips, not quite letting them touch.

He paused and flashed his teeth again. "I shall look forward to seeing you in court, Minerva Pyroline."

Minerva pulled her hand away. "What were you doing so far away from where the rest of your embassy is quartered, Highness?" she asked coldly.

Her response didn't faze him. Kodak stood and dusted off his pant's knees. "Trying to see the moon," he said.

While Minerva tried to discern whether his answer was cryptic or merely eccentric, a glance passed between the prince and Nola. She caught it—the look of conspirators. What does this mean?