Just like he’d always wanted.
I gestured at the pieces in front of me. “I go first, right?”
He nodded.
And a new game began.
I lamented my unsurprising failure in my firstStrategysession on my walk toSublimationtraining with Dax, Morgan’s assigned Knight from the first challenge.
I met him in a cabin close to Pendragon Estate, with no idea what to expect for his session, either. When I entered the cabin, all the furniture was gone, and canvas tarps covered the walls and floor. Save for a row of small tins set along the floor by the patio doors, it was completely empty.
Dax stood in the middle of the living room, facing the patio doors. At six-foot-four, with sandy brown hair, broad shoulders, and glasses that gave him a Clark Kent vibe, it didn’t surprise me Morgan had made it through the Honor Challenge staying loyal to her Knight.
Or that she hadn’t been on the list of V card carriers during the debate over our virtue.
“Go girl,” I muttered under my breath.
“Hi, Quinn. Come on in and grab a coverall.”
Dax bent down to open the tins, a smile quirking the corner of his lips. Convinced he’d heard me, I said nothing else as I grabbed one from the stack and pulled it over my clothes.
He gestured at the puffs of netting next. “You’ll probably want to tie up your hair and put on a hairnet, too.”
I threw my hair into a bun and put one on while I squinted at the tins, glimpsing color inside but unable to make out what they held from the distance. “Are we painting?”
He bobbed his head from side to side. “Something like that.”
After getting to his feet, he stood in front of me to assess my outfit. With a nod, he deemed me suitably covered, then crossed his arms over his chest.
He scrutinized my face. “So, how’s everything going?”
I narrowed my gaze back on him. “Fine…”
Arching a brow, a smile played at the corner of his lips. “Have you heard what that stands for?”
“I think it meansI’m fine.Everything’s fine.”
I gestured with open arms, encompassing Camelot Court and the mindfuck known as The Quest.
“This is alltotallyfine.”
He chuckled. “Yeah.Orit means everything isFucked Up, you feelInsecure,a littleNeurotic, andEmotional.”
I pursed my lips.
He smiled broadly, then winked. “How close did I get?”
Refusing to answer, I deflected instead. “Did you find that gem in a fortune cookie? It sounds like something a total quack would say.”
“It’s from a song, actually. At least, the version withFucked Upis from a song. And that always feels like the appropriate version at Camelot Court.”
I forced false brightness into my voice, stepping farther into the room. “But this place is so charming.” When I got close enough, I studied the small tins. “Hey, that is paint!”
“Yes, we’re using paint, but we’re not exactlypainting.” His brown eyes glinted in the sunlight. “My training is onSublimation. Do you know what that means?”
My brow furrowed. “Like, subliminal messaging?”
“In a way, yeah. It’s taking something and expressing it differently. Usually in a way deemed more socially acceptable. It’s useful for hiding product advertising in movies and TV shows.” He tipped his head toward me, sandy brown locks falling into his eyes. “And for channeling emotions.”
