Evie’s POV
“You’re really not bad, you know,” Ian says about an hour later after an embarrassingly elementary sword fighting session.
“Right,” I say sarcastically. “Ty compared me to a toddler with a rubber spoon at one point during the last session.”
He looks surprised, though I’m not sure whether it’s because of what I said or the fact that I referred to his beloved leader as “Ty” and not “his majesty.”
He can’t be that surprised, though, can he? Even my “character,” Clara, knew Ty when he was a lowly bodyguard, rather than a “rightful king.”
“Were you… friends?” Ian asks hesitantly. “Before your escape, I mean?” His cheeks turn crimson, and he adds quickly, “If you’ll pardon my asking.”
His shy politeness is so far from Ty’s brash rudeness, it actually throws me a bit. I do my be
