I grit my teeth.Give nothing back, Damia, no matter how much you want to.I obey my own order and manage to stay silent.
“So what are we up to today?” he asks conversationally. “Murder? Intimidation? You’re so good at both.”
“I don’t have time to play your games,” I say, clamping down on the flicker of amusement. Why does he always have to be so gods damn charming?
“Funny, you seemed to have plenty of time for me when you thought I was dying,” he says. “And right in the middle of a battlefield, no less. Or have you lost interest in me now I’m healed? Maybe you only like your men when they’re weak and defenseless.”
His words tug my head around fast enough to catch that smile again. It’s wicked and dangerous and I swear I’ve never seen anything more attractive. I drag my eyes down, trying not to get drawn in by it, and it’s then I notice his clothes.
He’s dressed in an immaculate emerald suit, but it’s not the one he arrived in Filusia wearing. It’s also nothing like anything we fae wear.
“How in the gloam did you find those clothes here?” I demand.
He taps his nose. “Oh, I have my ways. Traders all know each other, and Trova’s not the only place I have an old friend or two.”
“Unbelievable,” I say.
“Yes, they’re pretty good, aren’t they?” he replies, examining his outfit. “Although I promise you, I look just as goodoutof the suit too.”
Classitus save me.
I know he looks good out of his clothes—or at least I’ve imagined it often enough. It happens so much I’m starting to think something’s wrong with me. It’s why I have to stay away from this man just to make sure I maintain my focus. And my sanity.
We reach the captain’s quarters, and I slow down, glancing at Corrin.
“I have to?—”
“I know, I know,” he says holding up his hands and backing away. “Duty calls. Just remember most people can do their jobsandhave some fun once in a while.”
I want to say that’s exactly the problem—that this is all just fun to him—but thankfully, he’s already gone, carried away by the shadows before I can make a fool of myself.
I turn around to see Alastor walking up to the door beside me.
“I found something of yours,” he says and holds out his hand to allow Barb to crawl from his wrist onto my arm.
“Thanks,” I say, and he gives me a knowing smile.
“Enjoying time with your new friend?” he asks.
So hedidcatch Corrin and me talking. Fantastic. I ignore him—strangely, that’s a lot easier to do with Alastor than with Corrin—and I go to knock on the door.
“Oh, they’re expecting us,” Alastor says. “Or at least me.”
“Why?” I ask. This time it’s his turn not to respond as he checks the corridor and pushes open the door. Inside the captain’s sitting room, I find him, Morgana, and Fairon dressed and armed to go out.
“Damia,” the captain says with a note of surprise.
“I was coming to give you a message from Sandale, but I see you’re busy,” I say, confused.
“They called me in this morning,” Alastor explains to me. “We’re going into the city. I just went to get ready.”
“Is this message from Sandale urgent?” the captain asks.
“No,” I reply. “It can wait.” He’d already managed to get word to us while we were on the way here that he and the rest of the rebels got out of Qimorna safely.
I look carefully around at the others, sensing tension. Fairon in particular looks strained and impatient. I think back to our time in the sanctuary. I noticed something was off there too.
“This visit into the city, should I be coming with you?” I ask.
