THE Knight's Hidden Princess
Chapter 95: Not A Fucking Thank You

Chapter 95: Not A Fucking Thank You

Reagan grabbed me by my waist, gently lifting me from the horse before lowering me on the ground. Around us there were some chatter and whispering from Reagan’s men but he chose to ignore instead and lead me towards his tent. I pulled the scarf I had wrapped around my face tighter as I walked followed after him obediently.

Every person surrounding him gave him room while standing there dazed like they were staring at an iron hotplate. The cascade of rumors covered us but Reagan was calm. A hold on my wrist kept its pressure without becoming rough or forceful instead his hold stayed relentless as to keep me from escaping. I didn’t.

I glanced back only to see Heather and Eddie were being ushered into another tent but Reagan’s companion who I had later learnt his name was Nikolai had told me they were going to be taken care off.

Question is who was going to take care of me? Certainly not Mr. cold and grumpy over here! I thought as we finally entered the tent.

The moment we did so, Reagan released his hold on me. I heaved out a sigh as I gently rubbed my wrist ignoring the strange loss I felt at being held. Reagan stood in a corner, turning his back to me and not saying anything. Instead he was busy shuffling some papers on his table.

I stood motionless while gazing at him. He took up all available space in the tent making it seem too small even when he faced away from me. His presence consumed the entire area, his shoulders more intimidating as shadows from the flickering lantern light extended along their shape.

"So," I started trying to ignore the way my pulse still hasn’t settled down from what just happened. "I guess I won’t be getting a thank you for saving my life?" I asked with a light chuckle and I watched the way Reagan’s shoulders tensed up at the sound of my voice.

But instead of answering Reagan just continued what he was doing as if I hadn’t spoken at all but I knew he had heard me so why the hell wasn’t he saying anything.

I snorted in response as I shook my head at him, "Right, because saying thank you is beneath you."

No response came from Reagan, just the sound of shuffled papers which infuriated me greatly.

Another scoff came from me as I stepped forward, "You know, most people would at least acknowledge when someone risks their neck for them but I suppose the hellhound is too much of a freaking coward to accept when he gets saved especially by a woman."

Reagan chose to whirl around at that moment, "Where did you hear that name from?"

"Does it matter?" I asked him.

With a slight shake of his head Reagan turned away, "Well I suppose it doesn’t." He muttered, "The point is you shouldn’t have been there but most importantly, how did you know where to find me?"

Okay, maybe I liked when he was being broody because I didn’t know how to answer all of these questions. How do I tell him that it’s from a refugee camp I had overheard it and that my father was partly responsible for it? "Maybe I just have a great sense of intuition?" I asked with a slight chuckle.

Apparently I was the only one who found it funny because Reagan turned to look at me with a stern expression on his face. "The truth Dahlia, please for once in your life, just be honest with me."

I lost my smile while looking at Reagan’s expression because his stare created an unusual effect on me. His expression lacked both anger and cold attitudes at this moment. Just exhaustion. A quiet, desperate plea.

I choked down a lump in my throat while holding onto my sleeves with clenched hands. "Reagan..."

He took a slow step closer. The tone of his voice became softer as he asked me that question. "How did you know?"

Sighing, I decided to tell him everything then. What I’ve been up to these past few days with the refugees and how I overheard it along with how it was my father’s plan. Reagan watched me, not bothering to interrupt me as I spoke, he just continued to watch me with a look on his face that I couldn’t decipher.

"And that is how I found you but don’t bother asking me where the refugees are because I’ll never tell you!" I finished with a grim look on my face.

Reagan’s gaze searched mine calmly, he still didn’t say anything. He continued to watch me with his arms folded across his chest and just stared at me till the point where his silence started to get infuriating.

"So what now?" I asked him when he still didn’t say anything.

"You shouldn’t have been here!" Was all Reagan said before he turned, exiting the tent.

Wait, that was it? I asked myself as I stared at the tent where Reagan exited.

No argument, no acknowledgement, heck not even a fucking thank you and all he said was that I shouldn’t have come like I was some mindless child who had wandered into danger, like my chances had been reckless instead of deliberate, as if it wasn’t him I was trying to save and all I got was a fucking you shouldn’t have come here?

I blink, stunned and feeling anger reverberate through me at the audacity of his cold pompous ass. I clenched my fist feeling frustration build up inside of me as I scanned the room and then I sighted the basket of fruits and vegetables on the table and I carried it as I stomped outside.

I had saved his stupid cold ass, risked everything with his child inside of me and yet he had the guts to open his mouth and tell me I shouldn’t have been here?

I stormed out of the tent, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched for him. Reagan wasn’t hard to find. He was standing near the main campfire, speaking in hushed tones with Nikolai and I grabbed the first thing which was a red juicy tomato.

"Hey, Arsehole!" I called and Reagan turned to look at me but it was too late.

Using my strength I launched the tomato at him, watching as it hit him square in the face causing red to drip on his face.