Born to Kill the King: A Game of Masks

CHAPTER 3

The sound didn’t stay quiet for long. What began as a restrained breath quickly turned into an unmistakable laugh, and the fact that he didn’t even try to hide it made something inside me snap.

I turned to him sharply with a tone that could cut wind if it wanted to.

“Is there something amusing?” I asked.

I didn't have to raise my voice, the death stare I bestowed upon him was more than enough to make him clear his throat when he raised his fist to his mouth. This time at least trying to mask how entertaining it was for him. For a moment, he simply watched me, clearly aware that he had stepped into dangerous territory.

“Oh, yes, it was very amusing,” he said without hesitation, the corner of his mouth lifting again. “You should’ve seen your face when she mentioned bloodlines.”

My eyes narrowed, and for a dangerous second I truly considered strangling this cocky bastard. Every time I had the undeniable pleasure of talking to him, he reminded me exactly why I despised people like him.

“I really did enjoy every second of it.”

He admitted it as though the first answer hadn’t been clear enough, as though he felt the need to underline it. The ease in his voice only made it worse. Of course I had known the answer before he even said it, but that didn’t make it any less infuriating, especially not when he chose to repeat it. While Guinevere had been measuring me against her precious bloodline, he had been standing there like a spectator at a private duel, watching to see whether I would rise to the challenge or crumble under it.

“So that's what you do?” I asked, my voice stripped of any warmth. “You just stand there and let her insult me? Maybe you should’ve put your little girlfriend in her place. In the end, isn’t she your little puppy?” My words stripped of any emotions, cold as ice carrying only disdain.

“I stood there and watched you handle it,” he corrected calmly. “There’s a difference.” Then smirked, locking his eyes with mine. Looking a bit too satisfied. “And if you’re that curious…” he added, his tone shifting just slightly, “no. She isn’t mine.”

I crossed my arms, more to steady myself than to appear defensive. “You could have said something.”

“I didn’t need to.”

That answer settled heavily between us, and for a moment I hated that he was right. Before she arrived, I had been seconds away from refusing him. All the risks were already fully listed in my head — the politics of the Royal Court, the unspoken alliances, the fact that once you stepped into that circle, you were no longer just a student but a piece on a board you didn’t fully control.

It would have been safer to walk away. Maybe even smarter than accepting.

But Guinevere had looked at me as though talent without lineage was a decorative accessory, not a threat. And that was the first mistake she made. I wasn’t agreeing to this because Sebastian wanted me there. I wasn’t agreeing because he challenged me or because his approval held any value.

I was agreeing because I refused to let someone with an older surname decide my worth.

“You’re impossible,” I told him, though the edge in my voice wasn’t only anger anymore.

“Yes,” he admitted again, this time without even pretending to soften it. “But I enjoyed watching you fight.”

I looked into his eyes, and the sparks there were impossible to miss. They weren’t just alive with amusement. There was something else beneath it — something far more attentive than I had expected, intent, almost unsettling.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. I didn’t even know whether the feeling it stirred in me was bad… or simply uncomfortable. One way or another, I didn't quite like it.

He kept looking at me until his stare grew almost uncomfortable, no longer amused but sharply attentive, as though he had noticed something shift beneath the surface.

“There it is again,” he said.

I frowned slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“That look,” he replied, holding my eyes as if he refused to let me retreat from them. Watching me far too closely with observance I didn't like. “The one you get when something doesn’t go the way you expected. Like you’re not entirely sure what to do with me.”

The accusation landed far too close to the truth, and I felt my jaw tighten.

“You look at me like you’re trying to decide whether I’m a mistake… or a risk worth taking.”

And the worst part was that he said them without arrogance, which somehow made it far more dangerous.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the truth caught up with me before the words did.

A slower smile appeared on his face now, not mocking, not triumphant — simply satisfied.

I let out a quiet breath through my nose, not because he deserved the reaction, but because I needed a second to steady myself.

“You really do have a talent for making everything about you, don’t you?” I said, lifting my chin slightly.

For the first time since the conversation began, his expression shifted. The smug ease faded just a fraction, replaced by something far more attentive. His eyes searched my face, as if he was trying to decide whether I meant the accusation… or the challenge behind it. Good, that was exactly what happened when someone decided to play with fire.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

I took a step forward, closing the distance between us, making sure he heard every word clearly.

“You think I’m weighing you?” The question left my mouth before he had the chance to respond. “You think my decisions revolve around whether you’re a risk or a mistake?”

A faint, humorless smile touched my lips.

“You’re not the center of everything that happens here, Sebastian.”

His jaw shifted almost imperceptibly.

“I’m not doing this because of you,” I added, the words quieter now but far more intense. “And don’t flatter yourself into thinking I am.”

I took a step forward, closing the distance between us, making sure he heard every word clearly. And with that my satisfaction disappeared as soon as it appeared. The playful glint returned to Sebastian’s face, his earlier reaction gone so smoothly it almost felt controlled. The corner of his mouth lifted in that familiar, infuriating way, as though whatever had just passed between us had only confirmed something he already knew.

“Good,” he said at last. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

His gaze held mine steadily.

“There’s a reason I asked you out of all the girls here.”

The words hung between us, heavy with implication.

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Something in his tone made my pulse shift despite myself. Sebastian tilted his head slightly, studying me with open interest now.

“You didn’t think I appreciated my interests to be easy, did you?”

Before I could answer, he moved closer. Not enough to touch, just enough to make the space between us feel suddenly very small. For a moment it looked as though he was about to say something else entirely. His eyes dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my gaze, and whatever words had almost left him seemed to disappear just as quickly.

Instead, he exhaled quietly.

“So,” he said, his voice lower now, still carrying a bit of teasing edge.

“What’s your decision?”