Gemma shrugs. Purple rings line her big brown eyes. “I don’t know. Right now he wants to call us Mom and Dad, but if that changes, I’ll respect it.”
Draven cracks his knuckles. “We will honor Nico’s wishes. Regardless, we should get started. There have been questionable activities happening in the North. More specifically, largeanonymousgatherings on Gula.”
“Legion?” Reina asks.
Gemma nods. “We believe so, though they’re operating under a different name.”
When this campaign for peace between the felion and lupion began, I was tasked with switching my primary focus fromintercontinental affairs to the turf war. Between practicing my new act with Tempest and performing community outreach, I don’t have time to go on missions outside Haeresis.
Gemma and Draven have been picking up the slack, but now with Nico in the picture, I’m afraid we’re being stretched a bit thin. I miss getting away from the carnival, but I’m also equally grateful for the break it’s sort of given me, especially with the death of Roxanne.
I needed time to process and grieve.
“Have you spoken to Phaelyn about this?” I ask, turning to Draven.
“I intend to. It’s been hard to reach her; she’s working on some issues that have come up on Avaricia. Once she’s back on Luxuria, I will catch her up to speed on this as well as Nico’s wellbeing,” he says, and both corners of my mouth curl up.
The sound of boots stomping against the dirt outside makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, and we all freeze as Tempest enters the tent.
She looks as if shejustexited the shower, even though it’s been at least an hour. It’s possible her long, thick hair takes longer to dry, but it doesn’t quite add up.
“Hi. My apologies for interrupting. Can I speak to you?” she asks, and my heart beats like a thunderous applause. “In private.”
“Anything you need to say to Yasmeena, you can say in front of us,” Reina cuts in, and I flash her a look.
“Actually, maybe notanything.” The words escape my lips before I can reel them back in, and my muscles tense up, my cheeks heating.
“I told you,” Absinthe says, sticking her tongue out at Gemma.
“Shut up,” Gemma says, and they both laugh.
“Did you two place bets on whether or not Yasmeena would fornicate with her arranged fiancé?” Draven asks, deadpan. Absinthe and Gemma both gulp, looking down in shame, and I actually wish to bury myself alive. He scoffs. “I cannotbelieve I wasn’t included in this. Gemma, my butterfly, I’m disappointed in you.”
“Can you three shut the fuck up?” Tempest says, rage coating her words, and everyone visibly stiffens. “I’m here about Baelor.”
Draven pinches the bridge of his nose, and Gemma sighs heavily. Reina and I look like we’re hanging off the edge of our seats, but Absinthe is more disinterested.
“Please, have a seat,” Draven says, and Tempest does. “What happened?”
“Am I still being watched?” she asks, her face much more vulnerable than I’m used to, and it pains me a little.
Draven clears his throat. “Definewatched.Do I fully trust you? No, absolutely not. But am I assigning carnies to babysit you anymore? No, that would be a waste of labor.”
“Baelor was outside the shower when I got out and said that he was doing everyone a favor by watching me,” she explains. “Excepteverythingwas dripping with gross innuendos.”
Draven sighs. “My apologies. That’s not acceptable.”
Tempest stiffens, her head cocking to the side as her eyes widen. “You’re not surprised?”
Reina lets out a small laugh. “Please.”
Gemma crosses her arms, discomfort riddling her features. The air is tense and heavy, like morning fog before it’s lifted.
Draven’s eyes hold some heat in them, and he grinds his teeth. “Unfortunately, no.”
I hold my tongue, my mind a careful balancing act between being loyal to my best friend, and being reasonable. Baelor is not a good person. There are a million signs pointing to this obvious statement, but a small fragment of my heart splinters because he’s Lilian’s husband.
I desperately want this to all be untrue. For it to be a simple misunderstanding, but I know in my gut it is not.
