The War for The North [51]
Chapter 163: The Lizard in the Butterflies' Hands
"C-Cecilia?" Cassian stammered. His voice sounded just like a child caught in the act.
Cecilia's blue eyes now resembled a stormy sea. Her face was so close to Cassian's that the warmth of her breath brushed against his forehead, which was breaking out in a cold sweat.
"Sir, my Prince?" Cecilia said, her voice soft as silk but just as dangerous.
Cassian tried to look away, but Cecilia's other hand gripped his chin, forcing him to look at her.
"Why are you calling me that?" Cassian asked, taking refuge in an act of innocence. "What does 'my Prince' even mean?"
Cecilia's lips curled into a perilous smile.
"Why?" she whispered. "Wasn't it you who told Fredrinn that you liked it? Didn't you say, 'They keep calling me my prince; it was annoying at first, but once you get used to it, it feels nice'?"
Cassian swallowed hard. The pressure of the hand on his throat increased slightly.
