She chuckled at the way he practically spit her name. “You can’t hold a grudge against her forever just because she always kicks your ass in a fight.”

“Yes, I can.”

Still laughing as they turned the corner to head back toward the staircase, she yelped, barely avoiding crashing into the body standing just on the other side.

Before she could recover or even blink, Jaren had snatched her back, flinging her behind him, hand gripping the pommel of a dagger.

“May the God of Death take me!” A voice squeaked out.

She rose on her tiptoes, looking up over Jaren’s shoulder to see a short, blond-haired male staring at them with owl-like eyes. They drifted from Jaren’s death glare to the top half of Vera’s face, widening even farther until she was sure they’d pop clean out.

“My apologies,” he said, beginning to fall into a bow before stumbling and rearing back up. He rolled his lips in, looking unsure if he was supposed to bow or not. Shuffling a stack of scrolls in his arms, he stepped back, putting several feet between him and Jaren.

“Wait,” she said, trying to move around her statue of a guard. He tightened his hold on her arm, flashing her a warning look. She rolled her eyes, using both hands to shove past him. We’re in a library, what in gods name could happen?

Green eyes darkened behind lowered brows as his chest rumbled. A great many things, little star.

Ignoring the sudden heat scorching a path all the way down her spine, she swallowed, looking back at the speechless male before them. “You were there the other day, with King Vesstan.”

His head bobbed. “Yes. I’m Onas Dornelin, Miss Veralie.”

“Do you believe yourself above using her title, Onas Dornelin?” Jaren asked, his tone dangerously soft.

“N-no. She has not yet been c-crowned. I don’t—”

“It’s okay, Onas,” she said, raising a hand out to stop his panicked rambling. Seeing Jaren tense beside her, she raised her other hand to him, feeling ridiculous. “He’s right, Jaren. It’s fine. It’s nice to meet you, Onas. You can call me, Vera.”

“No, he can’t.”

She wasn’t going to kill him. She wasn’t going to kill him.

Onas’s eyes bulged all over again, and she wondered how much time he actually spent around other people besides the king.

“I was actually looking for you, Miss Veralie. I stopped by y-your room and your guardian said…w-well, she indicated I might find you here,” he finished, ducking his head.

Gods, did she even want to know how Reniya had figured out where she was? By the way Onas was turning red from his ears to his neck, she probably didn’t want to know what her new trainer had said about her.

“Why were you looking for her?” Jaren asked, hand still firmly attached to his dagger.

“King Vesstan has requested your presence at dinner tonight. A-alone.”

Jaren’s answering chuckle had her skin breaking out in gooseflesh. She made to frown at him, just in time to see him blessing Onas with a terrifying, wide-toothed smile.