““I’ll go.” Archer spluttered. Before he could speak she swung to him and looked up into his eyes. Don’t quarrel with me in front of the king’s brother, she thought to him. And don’t ruin this two months’ peace. He glared back at her. “I’m not the one who ruins it,” he said, his voice low. Brocker was accustomed to this; but how must they look to Brigan, staring at each other, having one side of an argument? I won’t do this now. You may embarrass yourself, but you will not embarrass me. Archer drew in a breath that sounded like a hiss, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the room. He slammed the door, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. Fire touched a hand to her headscarf and turned back to Brigan. “Please forgive our rudeness,” she said. Not a flicker in those gray eyes. “Of course.””
