Her fingers curled. “What doo yoou want from me?”
“We need to know everything you can tell us about the Warlock.”
The bronze eyes narrowed. “Warloock? Do you mean Rindek?”
“Yes.”
“He calls himself an Archmage.”
Tyrez’s heart turned to ice. “We need to know what you know.”
“It won’t be much.”
Tyrez shifted his feet, widening his stance but not moving either closer, or away. “How long ago did he grab you?”
She growled low in her throat. “He didn’t grab me. I went willingly.”
What?His gaze narrowed. “But you weren’t willing to go with him at the cemetery.”
“Because everything he toold me was a lie.” Her head tilted. “Oor moost of it, anyway.”
Tyrez lowered his voice. “I would be very interested in hearing your story.”
“If I tell yoou what I knoow, am I free to go?”
“If that is what you wish, then we can discuss it.”
“That’s noot a yes.”
“Rindek wants you. I’d rather he didn’t succeed in that quest.” The Emperor might not want her in the palace, but his father would insist she not be released. She constituted a living weapon that they didn’t wish the Archmage to have.
The bronze gaze evaluated him steadily. “Are there really two hundred Dragoons between me and the froont exit”
“No. There are two hundred and six. I rounded down.” He scanned her from toes to hair. She was so little, and so fierce. Yet this half-starved woman might hold the secret to finding the Archmage. “I need you to tell me about Rindek.”
“Great. Two hundred and six.” She shook her head, once, hard. “First, I need a shoower. And food.” Then she sniffed. “And cloothes.”
More delays. He’d hoped to have information to stave off his father’s wrath. And the thought of that golden Dragon in Rindek’s ruthless hands—Tyrez’s mouth pulled straight, and when she stiffened and took a step away from him, he realized his eyes were flaring.
The Dragon stifled his impatience and pointed back toward the bedroom. “I brought you water. And I have food in the fridge if you are hungry.” He took a deep breath and waved a hand. “Please consider my quarters your own. I have already sent for clothes.”
His capitulation only seemed to add to her suspicion. “Yoou live here?” Her eyes darted from the living room, back toward the bedroom. “Noo effing way I’m staying here.”
The inference offended him, and he drew himself to his full, impressive height. “I am Legion. I conduct myself with honor at all times,” he stated. “You will be safe here.”
Her features reflected her doubt, but when she met his eyes, she looked deep into them.
“I give you my word,” he said.
He meant it, and she seemed to hear it. There was an infinitesimal relaxing of her body, and she lowered the weapon.
“I’m keeping the swoord.”
“If it makes you feel better, by all means. I would like it back, eventually.”
She hesitated. “Tyrez is an oodd name for a Dragon.’
“It’s an old name among my people. What is yours?”
