Legion had left angry enough to walk straight past them without a word. Torden stood differently. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid, and there was something in his expression Creagan rarely saw.
Concern. Not annoyance, which was his usual expression, but concern.
Creagan lifted the decanter from the table and poured another measure of wine into a goblet.
“So,” he said. “I assume the queen has made another friend.”
Torden crossed the hall and entered the chamber.
Creagan raised the goblet toward him. “Wine?”
Torden shook his head.
“You may regret refusing it.”
Torden ignored the remark and stared at him.
Creagan took a swallow as the silence stretched between them. He knew Torden well enough not to fill it too quickly.
Finally, Torden said, “She wants you next.”
“Aye, who else could it be, since I am the last one left?” he said with a slight laugh.
“No time for humor,” Torden warned. You've seen Legion and now me.”
Creagan's smile widened. “Unfortunately.”
Torden gave him a look that would have unsettled most men.
Creagan raised the goblet as if in a salute and drank again.
“Whatever she commands,” Torden said, “don't underestimate her.”
“A foolish thing for any man to do. I, myself, never underestimate women.”
“This one you need to pay heed, extra heed,” Torden cautioned.
That caused Creagan to smile. “Now you're making her sound interesting.”
“She is in more ways than one, which can make her dangerous.”
“Now you really have me interested,” he said, his playful smile fading as he placed the goblet on a small table and stood with a stretch.
Torden watched him closely as his strong strides took him around the chair toward the door.
“What?” Creagan asked, catching his intense look.
“Nothing.”
“You've never been good at nothing, Torden.”
Torden gave the slightest shake of his head. “I have seen you walk into battles smiling.”
Creagan laughed. “I've walked out of them smiling as well.”
“That is true.”
“And yet,” Creagan encouraged.