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“Just some friends, Tayla,” says Dirk offhandedly.

“My name is Genese,” says the girl.

Dirk frowns, looking up and squinting. “That’s right,” he says quietly. “Tayla was the one I had with breakfast.”

“You’re disgusting,” says Roark.

“I’m performing a valuable service to the city,” argues Dirk. “I train these young, impressionable women in the proper methods of lovemaking and they go on to make many men happy. You should give me an award or something.”

“You said I was your first,” says Genese.

Dirk sighs, giving us both a look that says he will handle this. “Yes, darling. I said that because it’s what you needed to hear. Always tell your lover what they need to hear. The truth is secondary to pleasure.”

Dirk looks smugly at us, but doesn’t notice the naked girl storming toward him with a raised hand. He turns just in time to catch the full force of her slap. She gathers her dress, throws it on, and then hurries out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Well,” says Dirk. “Sorry about that. She was quite rude in the end, wasn’t she?”

“Are there any more girls in there?” asks Roark, who prods the crumpled blankets on Dirk’s bed.

“What do you think I am, a monster?”

“I think you’re a perverted bastard,” says Roark.

“You do know me well,” says Dirk.

“You said this place was safe?” I ask hesitantly.

“They will already be watching our rooms,” says Roark, who moves to the window and peers outside. “I just need a little time. I have a plan to even the odds.”

Dirk gives me a sidelong glance. “When Roark says he has a plan, he means he knows who he’s going to punch first.”

“I can hear you,” growls Roark from the window.

Dirk continues whispering to me in the same tone. “I suspect he also has the ears of a cat. And I’ve heard he has the cock of a--”

“Dirk!” shouts Roark, who rounds on the smaller man.

I try to suppress my smile. Despite the obvious danger, I feel an odd sense of calm. I guess I just can’t look at a man like Roark and imagine he won’t find a way to fix all this. And even if he can’t, I’m beginning to realize I’d wouldn’t trade the few weeks I’ve had with Roark for anything, not even a long, boring life on the outside.

“Have you fucked anyone in your guest bedroom recently?” Roark asks Dirk.

Dirk looks thoughtful. “No, actually. Maybe I should though--a bed without lovemaking is a sad thing.”

“We’re taking it tonight,” says Roark. “Do you have anybody you trust that you can bring in on this?”

“That depends. It would help if I knew exactly what ‘this’ is.”

“I’m working on that. I know we’re going to need men who aren’t afraid of getting a little bloody, and we’re going to need them to be loyal.”

“Well,” says Dirk. “The first part’s easy. The second though? That’ll be tougher.”

“I can’t do anything from here,” says Roark, who looks at me with regret. “The longer we wait, the more time Titus has to organize his men to capture or kill us. I’ve got to go out for a few hours.”

“Let me come with you,” I suggest.

“You’ll be safer here. There’s no guarantee I won’t be surrounded by guards before I even have a chance to gather allies.”

“Then don’t go,” I plead. My stomach turns over to think of him going out there alone. The palace is crawling with guards, and from the sounds of it, Titus has all of them in his pocket now.

“Dirk,” says Roark, who fixes his friend with an icy glare. “Protect her with your life while I’m gone. Do you understand me? Elizabeth is going to be your fucking queen, and if so much as a hair on her head is harmed, it won’t matter how far back we go, because I’ll end you. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” says Dirk.

Though his tone is harsh, Roark fist bumps Dirk’s shoulder and gives him a gruff nod, which Dirk returns.

Roark favors me with a quick but fierce kiss and a hug, then he’s gone. I cross my arms tightly, feeling suddenly cold. “You think he’ll be okay?” I ask.

“Roark is a tough bastard. He doesn’t talk about it like his brother, but he’s more skilled with a blade than any man I’ve ever seen. Granted, I doubt Prince Titus will instruct his guards to do the honorable thing and use the edges on their Blades. They probably have orders to shoot to kill.”

An image of Roark bloodied from dozens of gunshot wounds flashes in my mind and makes me feel sick. I lean against the wall, looking down at the ground and frowning, trying to push the thought from my mind.

“Sorry. I’m not exactly helping, am I?” asks Dirk.

“It’s okay. I just can’t believe it all came to this. Over me, of all people. And I feel like a terrible person for my part in it. I feel a little sick to my stomach… If anyone gets hurt over this, it’ll be because of me.”

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