Mireille didn’t like where this story was going, but she just sat quietly and listened.
“It’s why I leapt at the chance to join the war, when those whispers about my size and power traveled all the way from Denevrae to Delos. Straight into the ears of the Emperor himself. And well, you and everyone else on the continent know howthatstory ends.”
“So, you got exactly what you wanted.”
“Did I?” Pain and regret dimmed his blue-yellow gaze as his tattoos flickered. He shook it off, smoothed it over with his typical smarmy arrogance. “What about you? What did the greatMireille Valettedream of when she was a little pup?”
“You’re looking at it.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve achieved precisely what I set out to achieve.”
“So youwantedto be a prima ballerina who spends half her time dispatching the Empire’s enemies but still has no friends or joy in her life?”
Rage poured through her. Howdarehe judge her choices?
“You think your life is so much better? The infamous Butcher of Aethalia, fallen from glory and turned tail to Kheimos. Or can you even show your tail, now that you’ve been caged?”
Something dangerous flitted through his eyes, his fangs thickening as black claws extended from his fingertips.
“Careful,” he whispered, his guttural voice filled with menace. “If you try to bait me, I can’t be responsible for what happens to you.”
She laughed, even as fear sluiced through her veins. “Put your fangs and claws away, Butcher. You don’t scare me.”
“I should,” he answered, retracting his weapons. “I shouldterrifyyou. I’m exactly the monster that everyone claims me to be. You’d be wise to recognize it before our temporary partnership ends in bloodshed.”
“Well, this date is goingextremelywell, I think.” She took another sip of her wine. “Let’s just agree that we’re both perfectly well-adjusted individuals who’ve made all the right choices in life and leave it at that.”
“Fine,” he growled, draining the last of his Delirium and shaking the bottle at the waiter for another. “What other questions are on your list?”
Mireille surveyed the sheet. This was pointless. They had absolutely nothing in common, other than this shared mission, so why bother getting to know one another? But since sitting in silence while they ate their meals sounded even less enticing, she asked another.
“What’s your greatest fear?”
He huffed a laugh. “Suffocating under the weight of my reputation.”
Her eyes rolled upward. “You’re the one still brandishing it.”
“As if I have a fuckingchoice,” he muttered. “What’s yours?”
She took several minutes contemplating her own answer. Did she have any fears? Sometimes she felt a twinge of nervous energy before a performance or an assignment. Not really a fear.
She didn’t like getting close to people, but was that due to fear? Or was it a strategic choice, since most people were self-interested assholes?
No, the only thing Mireille truly feared was never learning the truth about her past. Not getting those answers she’d been seeking for centuries. Forever feeling like only half of her outline was filled in.
Butthatwas definitely too profound an answer to share with the male seated across from her. He’d likely find some way to taunt her with it. Not to mention, this conversation had taken an uncomfortably heavy turn.
She decided to lighten the mood with one of her smaller fears instead.
“Spiders.”
Mireille’s answercoaxed a rumbling belly laugh out of Ronin.
“Spiders? I just bared my soul to you and your answer is spiders?”
Mireille shrugged, drawing Ronin’s attention to her delicate shoulders and long neck. She really was incredibly beautiful, even if she was infuriatingly difficult to crack. “They’re unpredictable.”
He laughed louder.
“They appear out of nowhere on their creepy, fuzzy little legs. Some of them jump, and you can never tell which ones can and can’t. I’m always worried one is going to crawl into my mouth while I’m sleeping and lay eggs underneath my tongue.”
