At least it carried a bit more dignity.
“Can’t you get her to do a trick?” asked the Lunar woman, holding an umbrella of owl feathers over one shoulder, though Scarlet couldn’t guess what she was protecting herself from. According to Winter, they had another six days to go before they saw real suns.h.i.+ne again, and there was no rain on Luna at all.
The woman’s companion leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, and peered at Scarlet through the bars. He was wearing orange sungla.s.ses. Again, Scarlet didn’t know why.
Scarlet, cross-legged on the ground, her hands folded and her hood pulled up past her ears, peered back.
I am a vision of tranquility and indifference.
“Do something,” he ordered.
Scarlet blinked.
He glared at her. “Everyone says Earthens are supposed to be cute and amusing. Why don’t you do a dance for us?”
Her insides writhed, wanting more than anything to show this man how cute and amusing she could be. Outside, however, she was statuesque.
“Are you mute, or just stupid? Don’t they teach you how to address your betters down on that rock?”
I am the essence of peace and calm.
“What’s wrong with her hand?” said the woman.
The man glanced down. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
Her fingers didn’t so much as twitch. Not even the half-missing one.
The woman yawned. “I’m bored and Earthens smell bad. Let’s go look at the lions.”
The man straightened, arms akimbo. Scarlet could see him calculating something in his tiny head. She didn’t think he would try to use his gift on her—no one had manipulated her since she’d been brought to the menagerie and she was beginning to suspect her status as one of the princess’s pets was protecting her from that torture, at least.
He took a step forward. Behind him, Ryu growled.
It was a test of willpower for Scarlet to smother a grin. That wolf had really grown on her lately.
Though the woman glanced back at the wolf’s enclosure, the man kept his attention pinned on Scarlet. “You’re here to entertain us,” he said, “so do something. Sing a song. Tell a joke. Something.”
For my next trick, I will win a staring contest with the moron in orange sungla.s.ses.
Snarling, the man grabbed the umbrella from his girlfriend and closed it. Holding on to the curved handle, he pushed the pointy end through the bars and jabbed Scarlet in the shoulder.
Ryu barked.
Scarlet’s hand whipped upward, her fist wrapping around the feathered fabric. She yanked it toward her and the man stumbled against the cage. She shoved the umbrella’s handle up toward his face. He screamed and reeled back, his gla.s.ses clattering to the ground. Blood spurted from his nose.
Scarlet smirked long enough to shove the umbrella out onto the path—there was no point keeping it, as the guards would just take it away. She stifled her smug expression and returned her face to neutral.
This not-reacting thing was working out better than she’d expected.
After cursing and screaming and getting blood all over his s.h.i.+rt, the man grabbed his girlfriend and the umbrella and stormed away, back toward the menagerie’s entrance. They were probably going to rat her out to the guards. She would probably miss a meal or two for her misbehavior.
It was totally worth it.
She met Ryu’s yellow gaze across the way and winked. In response, the wolf raised his nose and howled, a short, joyful sound.
“You’ve made a friend.”
She started. A guard was leaning against a large-leafed tree, arms crossed and eyes steely. He wasn’t one of her normal guards, though there was an air of familiarity to him. She wondered how long he’d been standing there.
“We animals have to stick together,” she said, but then resolved that was as much as he would get out of her. She was not here to entertain the spoiled Lunar aristocrats, and she was certainly not going to entertain one of the queen’s brainless minions.
“Guess it makes sense you’d like that one. He’s related to your boyfriend.”
Her heart thumped. A sense of foreboding stirred in her chest.
Pus.h.i.+ng himself off the tree, the guard strolled in front of Ryu’s enclosure. One hand was resting at his belt, on the hilt of a large knife. The wolf froze, standing on all fours like he hadn’t decided whether to trust this stranger or not.
“This one’s father was the wolf they first gathered DNA from when they started experimenting with the soldiers. The queen’s prized arctic wolf. Once an alpha male.” He turned to Scarlet. “But you need a pack to be an alpha, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she deadpanned.
“Take my word for it.” He listed his head, inspecting her. “You don’t know who I am.”
He said it at the same moment her memory clicked. The blond hair, the uniform, his creepy knowledge of Wolf.
Her recognition only made her more wary.
“Sure I do. I can’t get the princess to shut up about you.”
She watched him carefully, curious if Winter’s feelings were even half mutual, but he gave nothing away.
He was handsome, sure enough. Broad shouldered and chisel jawed. But he wasn’t what she’d been expecting. His posture spoke of condescension, his expression disinterest. He was all brambles and icicles as he strode toward her cage.
He was about as opposite of warm, s.p.a.cey, babbling Winter as she could imagine.
Jacin didn’t crouch or bend down and it was a strain on Scarlet’s neck to look up at him. Her dislike increased.
