I smiled, flattered despite it all, and imagined that it must not take much to flatter me.
“I have a question for you now,” he said.
“Ask away.”
“Why are you here by a lake? I imagine a Princess has access to a large tub filled with steaming hot water.”
I stiffened, having forgotten that, in my anger, I had revealed that I was a Princess. “I like it here. It’s…”
“Calming?” he finished for me, and I nodded. “With the exception of the Hunters,” he added. “How often do you come here?”
“As much as I can,” I admitted, studying his profile. It was all so strange. Him. Me. Us. This conversation. How at ease I felt around him. Everything.
“Do you never worry that anyone could happen upon you?”
I shook my head. “You are the first person I’ve ever seen in these woods—well, the first god. And not counting the spirits, but they never come close to the lake.”
“And no one knows what you do out here?”
“I imagine some of the guards know I’ve been in the lake since they see me return with wet hair.”
His brows knitted. “I find it hard to believe that none of them has ever followed you.”
“I told you, people are afraid of these woods.”
“And what I know of mortal men is that many of them will overcome any number of fears the moment they realize a beautiful female can easily be caught in a compromising position. Especially a Princess.”
“Beautiful?” I laughed again, shaking my head.
He cut me a look. “Please don’t expect me to believe that you’re unaware of your beauty. You do not strike me as the coy type, and I’ve been rather impressed by you so far.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. But thanks, I will be able to sleep soundly knowing that you’re impressed by me,” I retorted.
“Well, I wasn’t exactly impressed when I told you to go home and you remained.”
I stared at him.
“But then you kicked the Hunter, and I was…well, I felt something, all right.”
My eyes narrowed.
“I can’t say I was impressed when you appeared as if you were about to embrace the Hunter,” he went on. “But then you disarmed it. That was impressive—”
“You can stop now.”
“You sure?” The teasing grin had returned.
“Yes,” I stated. “I’m not sure why I’m still sitting here talking to you.”
“Perhaps you feel indebted to me since I watched over you while you were unconscious.”
“I was unconscious for a few moments. It’s not like you stood guard for endless hours.”
“I am quite important. Those moments felt like hours.”
“I do not like you,” I said.
His eyes shifted to mine, and that curve of his lips remained. “But you see, you do. That’s why you’re still here and no longer threatening to claw my eyes out.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
Ash winked.
“The clawing of the eyes could still happen,” I warned him.
“I don’t think so.” He bit down on that lower lip of his again, the act snagging my gaze once more. “Besides the fact that you know you won’t succeed, you said I was beautiful, and clawing my eyes out would ruin that, wouldn’t it?”
My cheeks heated, but I wasn’t sure if it was the reminder of what I’d said or the glisten on his lower lip. “I did suffer an injury to my head right before I said that.”
His laugh was barely above a breath.
Twisting my hair once more, I focused on the ripples spreading across the lake. It had to be late, and I knew I should head back, but I was reluctant to return to life away from the lake. “What are the Shadowlands like?”
“A lot like these woods,” he said. When I looked over at him, he was looking at the moonlight-dappled trees.
“Really?”
“You’re surprised,” he said, and I was.
“I just didn’t think the Shadowlands would be beautiful.”
“The Shadowlands consists of three separate places,” he replied, and I jumped a little as I felt his fingers brush mine. That shiver of static danced across my knuckles as my head jerked in his direction. He gently disentangled my fingers from my hair. “May I?”
Seeming to lose the ability to speak, I simply nodded, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what he was asking permission for. I was silent as he tugged on a strand of my hair, stretching it until the curl became straight.
“There is the Abyss, which is what everyone thinks of when they picture the Shadowlands—fiery pits and endless torment,” he said, staring at the strand of my hair. “But there is also the Vale, and that is paradise for those worthy.”
“What is the Vale like?”
His gaze lifted to mine, searching. A moment passed. “That, I cannot tell you.”
“Oh.” Disappointed, I lowered my gaze to the long fingers that held my hand.
“What awaits in the Vale cannot be shared with anyone, mortal or god. Not even Primals can enter the Vale,” he added. “But the rest of the Shadowlands is like an entryway—a village before the city. It is beautiful in its own way, but it was once one of the most magnificent regions in all of Iliseeum.”
Once was? “What happened to it?”
“Death,” he stated flatly.
A chill swept over me. “What is the rest of Iliseeum like?”
“The skies are a color of blue you would never see in this realm, the waters clear, and the grass lush and vibrant,” he told me. “Except for when it’s night, the hours of darkness are brief in Dalos.”
My breath caught. Dalos.
The City of the Gods, where the Primal of Life—Kolis—and his Court resided. “Is it true that the buildings reach the clouds there?”
“Many surpass them,” he answered, and for a moment, I tried to imagine what that must look like.
And failed.
I fell quiet as I watched him toy with the strand of my hair, sort of awestruck that a god was sitting beside me, playing with my hair, teasing me.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now, safely and respectfully tucked away in your bed?” he asked.
“Probably.”
His gaze flickered over my face. “Then others must be looking for you.”
I laughed as I dragged my gaze from his. “They’re not.”
“Truly?” Doubt clouded his voice. “Because they believe you are already where you’re supposed to be?”
I nodded. “I’m very skilled at coming and going without notice.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
I cracked a grin.
“Is that a smile?” He leaned over, eyeing me far too intently to be serious. “It is. You’ve graced me with three of them now. Be still my heart.”
Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes. “It must not take much to still your heart.”
“Apparently, it takes a mortal Princess,” he said. “One who roams haunted woods in the dead of night and swims gloriously naked in a lake.”
I chose to ignore the gloriously naked part. “Is it common for gods to sit and chat with mortals after spying upon them?”
He made that sound again, that deep and shadowy chuckle as he drew his thumb over my hair. I swore I felt that touch down my spine. “Primals and gods do all sorts of things with mortals after unintentionally crossing paths with them.”
My mind took what experience I had with “all sorts of things” and happily played around in the gutter with it.
His gaze flicked up from my hair, eyes a molten silver. “Especially with those we’ve had the pleasure of glimpsing all those unmentionable places.”
“Can we pretend as if that didn’t happen?”
His grin spread. “Are you really pretending that it didn’t?”