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"She tried." Oh. That lands. Small. Unexpected. I look forward. Don't make it heavy. He gave me something.

Let it stay simple.

"Mine is probably blood-orange cake."

Rhyven turns. "You hate overly sweet things."

I blink. "How do you know that?"

"You leave frosting." I stare. He looks back ahead.

Of course. Apparently we've been studying each other for months without permission.

"That's disturbing."

"No."

"You notice my frosting?"

"You notice my coffee." Fair. I hate when he does that.

I smile. "What food do you hate?"

"Anything too sweet."

"I knew that."

"Why ask."

"I wanted confirmation."

"Efficient."

"Thank you." Silence settles again. Easy. Then my eyes move toward his arm. Tattooed. Ink running over muscle, scars, old Rider markings. A small symbol near his inner forearm looks slightly crooked.

I've noticed it before. Never asked. Tonight, apparently, I have no survival instincts. I point.

"That one."

Rhyven looks down. "What about it."

"What does it mean?"

His expression goes blank. "Bad judgment."

I laugh. "Specific."

"No."

"Rhyven."

He sighs. "Caelen dared me."

I sit up straighter. "No."

"Yes."

"You permanently marked your body because my brother dared you?"