His eyebrows went up with his question, “What kingdom are you from?”

“Um…” Shit. Well, here goes. “Seattle.”

His brows descended but only to knit over narrowed eyes.

“Seattle?”

“Yes, it’s a very small kingdom,” I told him.

“Like Bellebryn?” he asked.

Hell, I didn’t even know what Bellebryn was.

Well, I had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right.

“Yes.”

He nodded.

Shoo.

“Where is it?” he went on.

Shit.

“Uh… over the Green Sea?” I made another guess.

“Are you asking me where it is, my tigress, or telling me?” he asked.

God, why was he so cunning and clever and kingly and never missed a trick? The jerk.

“Telling you,” I answered. “But, uh… I can’t really say exactly where it is because I’m not very good at geography. I never was.”

At least that was true.

His eyes narrowed again. “Tigress Circe, you were on a ship that was overcome and looted by pirates and when they docked you were taken by Korwahk scouts as they were moving you to shore. How could you travel from a faraway land and not know where you’d travelled to get where you landed?”

Uh… what?

“What?” I whispered.

“Do you not remember how you came into the possession of a Korwahk scout?”

No, actually, I didn’t. And actually, I never thought about it.

Shit.

“Circe,” Lahn warned, I focused on him and thought fast.

“Well, uh, when we were, you know… travelling and uh…

sailing, um… most of the time I was sea sick and the rest of the time I was reading a book so I didn’t pay a lot of attention and the, uh…

pirates weren’t very chatty.”

He stared down at me. Then he looked over my head.

Then he muttered, “I have never heard of this Seattle.”

“It’s tiny,” I told him and his eyes came back to me so I lifted a thumb and forefinger with about a half an inch of space, squinted through it to look in his eyes and emphasized, “Teeny tiny.” I dropped my hand. “It isn’t even like a kingdom, as such, more like a… city.”

He stared at me. Then he again looked over my head and murmured, “Bellebryn.”

Whatever.

I needed to move us on.

“My mother looked like me,” I told him in an effort to change the subject, his eyes came back to me so I kept going. “It’s weird, um…

strange. My Pop was dark, uh… like you. He even had olive skin.

But she was fair, very fair. Usually dark is a dominant trait but I didn’t get anything from Pop. I got my Mom’s hair, her eyes, her skin –”

He cut me off to ask, “Her eyes?”

I nodded and then suddenly he dipped his face closer to mine and his hand came to my jaw.

I braced at this quick movements and it was a good thing I did when he spoke.

“If you’re given the opportunity to look deep enough, you can see a person’s spirit in their eyes but usually, they are guarded, kept safe. Not you, my tigress, the night of your claiming, even in the moonlight, I could see your spirit shining from your eyes. You hold your spirit close to the surface for all to behold and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Oh.

My.

God.

Unfortunately, he kept talking. “So if she gave you your eyes, my golden doe, I can see your father mourning your mother long after her death. If you share your spirit with someone, their hold on you will never fade away.”

“Stop talking,” I whispered and felt the tears shimmering, ready to fall.

Lahn saw them and his hand glided up to my cheek, his thumb sliding below my eye, releasing the tear suspended there and capturing it against his skin.

“My tigress weeps,” he murmured.

My eyes slid away.

He again spoke. “You’ve had enough, my Circe, face forward and ride with your husband in silence. We make camp soon.”