Fury mottled the male’s skin as he fought to breathe.
“No need to injure my tutor.” Chantel glided over and folded her fingers around Kaysar’s wrist to draw back his hand. “I get it. He misses his wife, and he seeks her substitute. We can’t blame him for that.”
He opened his grip at once, freeing the prince, who sucked in a mouthful of air. Chantel—his Chantel—had spoken kindly about a Frostline who had insulted her.
Eye and her tray of tartlets inched backward.
Was Chantel experiencing the princess’s emotions, without realizing it? A development he hadn’t anticipated.
He clasped his belo—beliked mistress’s hand, linking their clawed fingers. Holding on, lest she escape him. Then he flittered her to the throne, wanting no one else to hear his next words. “You will begin your lessons,” he told her, “but you will not treat the prince with kindness again.” He forced the words from clenched teeth before he changed his mind about the training sessions altogether and another gift disintegrated before his eyes. The sooner she started, the sooner she finished. The sooner he could remind her of the things he made her feel. “All right?”
“Not all right. I’ll treat him however I think is right,” she said, blowing him another kiss and walking away. Over her shoulder, she told him, “This evil seductress isn’t mastered. She masters.”
He wanted to kiss her.
He met Jareth’s gaze. The prince smirked.
“Let’s get this over with,” Kaysar grated.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
UNDER KAYSAR’S WATCHFUL EYE, Cookie trained with Jareth for hours. Her seething king observed from an ornate throne of gold—her throne, to be clear—as quiet as...things that were quiet. He never pulled his gaze from her. Did he even spare a moment to blink? More and more tension emanated from him.
His fear of Lulundria’s memories marked the first obstacle in Cookie’s campaign to win him from his vengeance. Operation First Place was off to a rocky start.
Fear of losing something only drove you away from it. She knew this firsthand. She’d lived this. His worry, if left untreated, would become a wedge between them. She would lose the battle before the war even started. She needed to act ASAP. Which meant she needed to actually remember Lulundria’s life and prove Kaysar’s concerns were moot. But how?
She hadn’t lied to him. After those two flashes of Lulundria’s last minutes in Astaria, when Jareth had tossed his ice daggers, and Kaysar had thrown the princess in the line of fire, Cookie had received zip, zero, nada from the other woman. Well, besides those heart leaps. And knowledge that she hadn’t learned.
“Focus,” Jareth snapped. He reached for her, only to stop himself before contact. Afraid Kaysar might remove his hand again? Smart. “I told you how to create and release vines without allowing the stalks to wither. You continue to disappoint.”
She glared at her merciless instructor. “The problem isn’t the student.” Jerk. So far, the only bit of information she’d gleaned was dancing her fingers for faster vine growth. “You expect me to do everything Lulundria did, when I didn’t grow up knowing what she knew.”
“Apples!” Eye—er, Amber sat on the royal dais, near the throne. Whenever Kaysar neared his snapping point for whatever reason, she shouted her version of a warning. “Would you prefer an apple tart, majesty?”
Jareth shoved a big hand through his thick, pale hair. “Vines will preserve their vitality, even at a great distance from you, as long as you maintain a mystical hold on them. Think of every stalk you create as a member of your family. You don’t have to be together to feel close.”
Uh, she’d never felt close with her family. Pearl Jean and Sugars, though. Yeah. Kaysar?
She gulped. Did she already think of him as family?
“Let’s try something else. With practice, you can throw thorns the way I throw ice. Observe me.” He turned his big Viking body toward a far wall and waved a hand, ice daggers spewing from his fingertips. “Power flows from here—” he banged his chest “—to my fingertips. The conduit.”
“Yes, but how do you force the power from A to B?”
“Force?” He bowed his head and muttered, “Do you ever listen?”
“Cinnamon!” Amber called. “I selected a delicious cinnamon cake for you, majesty.”
“Never force,” Jareth continued, glaring at Cookie. “Flow. Flow. F.L.O.W. Fuh-low.”
Condescending jerk. Her temper threatened to redline. “How do you fuh-low the power from A to B?” Even high on elderseed, she hadn’t tossed thorns.
“You stop resisting. As I’ve told you many times.”
“Chocolate strawberries!” The oracle increased her volume with every dessert. “The fruit is particularly sweet this season. Shall I prepare a batch?”
Cookie began to understand a harsh truth. Lulundria hadn’t gifted her with a heart; she’d saddled her with a belligerent ex. The guy had no patience. His irritability had no borders. Granted, she’d rejected his claim on her hardcore. So, he had reasons to dislike her. But how about a truce? Or a little credit? Not once had she purposely stabbed him with a vine.