Page 78 of Not Another Happily Ever After

Sympathy pangs my heart as I watch him storm past Myrrdin and out of the carriage. I know there is little I can do to ease the burden he carries, but I should have liked to try.

Myrrdin clears his throat, drawing me back to the matter at hand— a situation which I will not be swayed from.

His fingers fidget at his sides, but his thinned lips don’t show any sign of letting slip any more of the truth.

I’ll just have to get it the hard way then. Through pure tenacity.And a little bit of princess charm.

“Perhaps you should sit and?—”

The polite knight’s mouth snaps shut before he can finish, and out of the corner of my eye I see why. His twin is mouthing the wordnowhilst making a cutting motion across his neck.

Looks like I have a volunteer.

I turn to him, my arms crossed.

“I was just…” Merrek stammers.

“We,” Myrrdin chimes in. “Must be getting back to our job, Princess.”

“Your job, you say?” An idea pops into my head—one that has the knights exchanging uneasy glances. “Is it not also part of your job to see to my comfort?”

“Well,yes.” Myrrdin draws out the word, as if it might turn around and bite him.

“Hmm.” I nod, bringing a cold blue finger to my chin. “And if I were to say that I didn’t feel comfortable here in this carriage on my own, would it then be your job to rectify the situation?”

Merrek’s eyes narrow. “I suppose, but?—”

“It’s settled then!” I plop onto the bench, patting the spot next to me. “You’ll stay.”

The knight’s face falls.

“Me?” Merrek gasps at the same time his twin exhales in relief.

“Mm-hmm.” I nod.

Buttons isn’t thrilled about being shooed from his throne, but with a little hiss he’s up and off, following an all-too-giddy Myrrdin out of the carriage.

“Best of luck, brother!” he calls as he slams the door shut behind him.

I watch to see which way he goes before his shadow disappears into the fog, but I suspect I’m not the only one with suspicions.

Merrek’s propped himself against the carriage wall, his arms and ankles crossed as his gaze burns a hole into the side of my head.

“I see what you’re doing,” he surmises.

I turn to him then, batting my eyes innocently. “Looking for a bit of comfort from a companion who just so happens to be extraordinary with a sword?”

“No, that’s not it. Though the flattery is appreciated and appropriately placed.” He grins, shaking his head. “But youarelooking for something. Might as well name what it is.”

Beneath my playful facade, I weigh the words I want to say carefully. On the one hand, asking him plainly about what the Redhoods were after would save us some time. On the other, he could shut the conversation down before it even has a chance to begin.

No. This is a question that will have to be eased in. Hidden so far beneath the surface of discussion that it slips right past the detection of a male-wired mind.

“Alrighty then,” I concede, surrendering the subject for now in favor of the long-term plan. “What I should really like to know is more about my men.” I shrug, and it’s not entirely a lie.

There is plenty I wish to know.

Merrek leans back, pressing his lips into a thin line, clearly uncertain about entertaining the subject. But much like myself, the man can’t pass up a good conversation.