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When Will spoke, his voice was low, menacing, and far more terrifying than the blade he held to my neck. “I don’t appreciate being woken in the middle of the night to chase a Princess from the City around the bush, because she wants to stretch her legs.” He looked at me with disgust. “I should take you straight to Eton. It’s what you deserve.”
I shrugged my shoulders. Frankly, I’d rather he took me to Eton. I felt safer with him—he seemed the kinder of the two.
Will narrowed his eyes. “You have no idea. Eton’s not the saint you think he is. You’re just lucky it wasn’t him that found you.”
“Lucky?” My voice returned at Will’s insinuation. “I’m lucky to have a knife pointing at my throat?” I sounded far braver than I felt, and the annoyed look in Will’s eyes as I spoke sent a shimmer of satisfaction through me. There was no need for him to know how petrified I was right now.
“Be glad that’s all it’s doing.”
Something in his words didn’t ring true. “You won’t kill me, neither will Eton.”
Will raised an eyebrow as if considering, and a threatening smile grew on his lips. “True. But we don’t have to kill you to make our point.” The tip of his knife nicked my skin sending a trickle of blood dribbling down my neck.
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