Page 50 of The Last Guardian

THAT NIGHT, ZAIDKIEL burst into my room without knocking. A cocky smile curled his lips, and the urge to smash it tickled my fingers.

“Don’t they teach you how to knock before entering a room where you come from?” I scolded, wrapping my robe tight around me as I stood from the chair where I had been enjoying the quiet of the night.

Zaidkiel closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “Am I disturbing your peace, Princess?”

I narrowed my eyes, exhausted by the day and already entirely annoyed by him. “What do you want?”

“Was just checking how our honorable guest was acclimating,” Zaidkiel smirked, pushing himself from the wooden door. The ship rolled on the waves, the moonlight dancing on the wall of my quarters.

“Great,” I said, rolling my eyes, “Until you came.”

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest as Zaidkiel took slow, casual steps—but stayed silent.

“I’m fine,” I attested, ready for him to go elsewhere—far away from me. “Can you leave me alone now? I’m not in the mood for your tricks.”

“My, someone has gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

I sighed. “Yes, indeed. If you had the decency to answer my questions when I asked them, I might be more inclined to be more pleasant.”

“I heard you had your answers just fine.”

“Yes, from your sister! And by the way, thank you for the introduction.” The sarcasm burned my tongue as I took a step towards him. “You should’ve told me what you are before offering your help…”

“Why?” Zaidkiel asked, interrupting me. “Why would it matter if I’m human or something else?” He took a step, then another, before stopping inches from me, smiling. “Does it scare you?”

My heart pounding fast in my chest, I looked up at him, chin high, but didn’t answer. Instead, I said, “What. Do. You. Want?”

A little grin formed on his lips, and then he whispered, “A letter has arrived.” Zaidkiel withdrew and, turning his back, reached for a piece of paper in his pocket. He faced me again, arching a brow. “From Arthur.”

My heart stumbled at the news, and my feet moved without my consent, reaching for the paper, but Zaidkiel put his hand in the air, high enough so that I couldn’t grab the letter.

“Easy,” the asshole purred, leaning closely. “I want something in return.”

I glared. “What?”

“Try smiling next time. I promise it won’t kill you.” Zaidkiel winked, but before I could scoff, the piece of paper touched my hand, and my eyes fell on the letter.

My heart thundered in my chest as I unfolded the sheet and found… three-quarters of the page scratched out, the words no longer legible.

But before I could throw something in his face, Zaidkiel had already left my quarters, the door wide open, letting the air enter the room.

Insufferable jerk.

What gave this man the audacity to censor Arthur’s letter? I knew he was doing it on purpose to annoy me. I rolled my eyes, looking at the letter once more—a few sentences remained legible. Not even Zaidkiel’s cocky face or his scribbling could erase my relief at having news from Arthur.

One of the first remaining sentences was about Haedeon. The thought of him around my family made nausea rise in my throat. But he had apparently left the palace the day after I escaped.

The others were centered on me:

Alyana must stay away from Lorath.

We’re relieved to know that she’s still alive.

Send a note when you are on your way back to Lys. I want to see her.

Just below that sentence, another blackened word, followed by his signature and name. I wondered what the word could be… And I also wondered where this city was—Lys. And why did my brother refuse to let me return to Lorath if Haedeon was no longer there?

Not that I wanted to go back—Haedeon would come back eventually… But still.