“Wait!”
Mattox stopped in
his tracks and tried to smother the smile coming over him. By the
time she caught up with him, he was able to present his stern face
to her.
“I think we’ve
gotten off on the wrong foot.” She stopped less than a yard away
from him. Holding out her hand, she identified herself. “Let’s start
over, shall we? I’m Caralas Edge, Battle Princess of Vega City.”
“Princess?”
The word came out of his mouth before he had the chance to stop
himself. Worse, his next comment made him sound even more like an
idiot. “You’re Edge’s daughter?”
She batted her
eyes a few times in confusion. “Well, yes. What did you think… Oh!”
Caralas laughed, amused by his misconception. “I hope you meant that
as a compliment.”
“In what way?”
“You thinking my
father married a woman half his age, and not that I was some gold
digger trying to cash in on a battle lord’s position.”
He lifted an
eyebrow at her. “To be perfectly honest, the second possibility
never crossed my mind.”
She scoffed at his
remark. “Are you telling me you’ve never encountered a battle lord
with a pretty young wife who wasn’t using her position for her own
vainglory?”
“Personally? No.”
The woman accepted
his answer. Unfortunately, his next comment only made matters worse.
“But I’m sure
there are princesses out there who are just as guilty of doing the
same thing.”
That spark of
anger returned to her eyes, and she pressed her lips together to
form a thin line of rage. He wondered about her next action,
debating if she’d go stomping off in a huff, or stand her ground and
continue to verbally battle it out.
Her hand came up
and slapped the side of his face full-on. It was the one tactic he
hadn’t expected, and it caught him by complete surprise. But what
surprised him more was the fact that his first instinctive move was
not to strike back. Instead, he walked past her, toward the square
where the merchants were preparing for the day and influx of
visitors. He no longer cared if she followed him or not.
He kept going,
ignoring the cries bidding him hello, welcome, and good day as he
continued past them. He had no idea where he was going. The walking
felt good. Cleansing, almost.
Reaching the
second gate which separated the main part of the compound from the
smaller, adjacent one, he passed through, still ignoring the hails
from the soldiers and others who spotted him. No one said anything
about him not returning their well wishes. They were used to his
temperament, and brushed it off, especially when he wore that
bright, red-eyed glare, and knew they were not the cause of his
anger. Long ago, the populace had learned that whenever the battle
prince was in a fit, he took it out on no one. Instead, he usually
went to the practice field and vented on one of the poor dummies.
He’d almost
reached the outer gate when he realized someone was behind him.
Coming to a sudden stop, he whirled around to discover Caralas had
been tailing him since they’d left the square. “What do you want?”
he demanded, not caring how she took it. To her credit, she didn’t
back down.
“I want to talk to
you.”
“About what? I
thought you already made it clear you took offense to what I said.”
“I did.” She
nodded once. “But after thinking about…what I did, I think I
misconstrued what you meant. You weren’t talking about me, were
you?” She took a step closer. “Were you?”
“No. Now go back
to your father. I’m sure he won’t appreciate you keeping company
with D’Jacques’ Mutah son.”
That seemed to
touch a nerve. “My father has no say-so over my actions, my
thoughts, or my intentions. Nor do I pay attention to what he has to
say about the friends or company I keep.”
Mattox made no
attempt to contain his snort of derision. “I bet he has many
sleepless nights, worrying about you, then.”
“As a matter of
fact, he does.” She motioned toward the outer gate. “Where does that
lead to?”
“The practice
field.”
“May I come with
you?”
“It hasn’t stopped
you so far.”