"Put me down," I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper as King Landon carried me through the castle hallways. My cheeks burned with embarrassment at being displayed like this in front of everyone we passed. Servants stopped and stared, their eyes wide with shock and confusion.
"I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own," I insisted when he ignored my first request.
"You're injured," he replied, not even bothering to look down at me.
"Not in my legs."
His arms tightened around me, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Quiet."
I clamped my mouth shut, knowing better than to push my luck. Whatever strange mood had possessed the King—this protective, possessive behavior—I didn't understand it, but I wasn't foolish enough to test his patience further.
Instead, I focused on the path we were taking, confusion growing when I realized we weren't heading toward the servants' quarters as he'd said. We were moving deeper into the castle, down a familiar corridor that led to...
