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“It’s true five times.”
He sighs, and I take that as permission to lean on him. I rest my head on his shoulder.
“I nearly called an old man a hag,” I tell him.
“Which one?”
“The one with the eyebrows.”
“Everyone here has eyebrows.”
“This one had huge ones. Like, aggressively large. I’m talking caterpillars.”
Dimitri snorts. It’s the most affection he’s shown me all evening, and I file it away like a trophy.
I’m settling in for a long, boring, comfortable night with my head on my best friend’s shoulder and zero plans to move, when the doors open.
I lift my head, and a masked man steps through the entrance.
Two twins flank him. Both in black. Both moving with the kind of synchronized precision that makes it clear they have been trained to kill and are very, very good at it.
The man in the mask doesn’t look at anyone. He doesn’t need to, because the entire party has just recalibrated around him.
I recognize him instantly.
The Kazuma heir.
Meaning Kento.
My heart does that stupid thing where it forgets how to beat properly and just sort of lurches in my chest like it’s trying to escape through my ribs.
He is wearing a black suit. The mask covers his face, leaving only his eyes and mouth visible.
He locks onto my face in about half a second flat, then his gaze slides onto Dimitri.
The temperature drops. I can feel it from here. The exact degree of cold that comes off him when he is displeased.
I lean back slowly onto Dimitri’s shoulder, keeping my face perfectly innocent.
Dimitri doesn’t look at me. He is watching the masked man. “That’s the Kazuma heir.”
I nod against his shoulder. “Hm.”
“You know why he’s not showing his face?”
“Enlighten me.”
“From what I’ve heard, Kenji doesn’t want his identity known. Rumor says he isn’t really his son. Not by blood.”
“So a bastard of an heir,” I murmur lazily. “Perfect family values.”
“He is very strong, though.”
That makes me lift my head properly. “How do you know?”
Dimitri’s jaw moves, but his eyes stay on the masked man. “I fought with him once.”
“When?”
