Page 103 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

“Of course,” Shade replies flatly. His tone is the same as if she’d thanked him for passing salt.

Her expression falls for a heartbeat but Shade isn’t looking. Kitty recovers instantly and moves toward me. I barely have time to tense before she’s sitting in my lap, arms draped around my neck, close enough that I can count her eyelashes.

“Thank you,” she purrs softly. “I’ll never forget what you both did for me.”

I’m suddenly very aware of her weight against me, the warmth of her body, the way her braid brushes my arm. But what I notice most is Shade observing us with colorless eyes.

Kitty is doing this on purpose, trying to get a reaction from Shade. It won’t work.

“Do you miss me, Wolf?” Kitty asks, her voice low and intimate.

“Every day,” I say honestly.

Because I do miss her, just not the way she’s implying. Kitty glances sideways at Shade, clearly waiting for some sign of jealousy or irritation.

Shade tears another piece of bread in half. Kitty’s shoulders slump in defeat.

I have to look away to hide my smile. What she doesn’t know is that Shade confronted me about her years ago.

It was after a mission. We were cleaning weapons in the armory when Shade suddenly asked, “Do you like Kitty?”

I looked up, confused. “Of course I like her. She’s—”

“Do you have feelings for her?” Shade clarified in that flat voice.

“No. She’s like a sister to me,” I say quickly.

Shade nodded once, then he said, “She likes you.”

She doesn’t like me, Shade.

Couldn’t he tell that Kitty had been in love with him for a long time? It was obvious for me and Shepherd to see.

“Just be nice to her,” Shade said finally. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I would never—”

“I know.” He went back to cleaning his blade. “But I’m telling you anyway.”

The conversation ended there. Shade never brought it up again.

I wish they would just talk to each other, instead of this dance.

“You don’t miss me,” she says lightly, tilting her head back to look at me. “You’re too busy mooning over your golden prince.”

“I’m not mooning over him,” I deny quickly.

“Tell us about him,” Kitty demands.

I should refuse her and shut down this ridiculous request. Instead, I exhale.

Against my better judgment, I start talking. The words come easier than expected.

I don’t tell them everything. The dungeons don’t come up. Neither does the torture, the executions, or the horrifying truth about the Aeonians. Those are Garrett’s burdens to share if he chooses.

But I tell them about the rest. His kindness to villagers, the way he plays chess and argues. How people look at him with hope in their eyes.

Kitty listens without interrupting for once.