Page 36 of Maksym

A small line formed between her brows. “Even with daylight coming.”

“Yes.”

“That will be annoying.”

“It can be,” I told her.

She looked at the decanter. “So vampire life is dusk to dawn. Sleep when the sun climbs. Wake when it falls.”

“For most, yes. Courts convene after sunset. Business is conducted through the night. Amethyst is most alive between midnight and four.”

“Of course it is.”

“Human institutions remain inconveniently attached to daylight,” I added. “So we adapt when necessary.”

Her gaze sharpened faintly. “Can I still practice law?”

The question was so unexpected, and so entirely her, that something in my chest shifted.

I answered carefully. “Not immediately.”

Her face closed.

“Not because you are incapable,” I said before she could strike. “Because your death as a human will need to be handled. Your disappearance. Your identity. Your records. If Lucian Devereux had influence in your human life, anything public may expose you before we understand what he knows.”

Grace absorbed that in silence.

The prosecutor had not gone away. She was merely exhausted, starved for facts, and seated in a robe at a table with a vampire king. Her mind still moved beneath the shock. I could almost see it sorting columns: risk, remedy, jurisdiction, evidence.

“I had cases,” she said.

“I know.”

“You don’t know.”

“No,” I admitted. “I know only that you would not have abandoned them willingly.”

Her eyes held mine for one beat too long. Then she looked down.

That was enough. More than I deserved.

“What happens when I wake?” she asked.

“Millie will be here first, unless you ask otherwise. There will be blood wine nearby and food if you want it. I will come when you permit me.”

Her fingers tightened on the robe. “If I don’t?”

“Then I will wait.”

“You’re very good at making statements that sound reasonable and impossible at the same time.”

“That is a useful skill for ruling.”

“I imagine it’s also useful for trapping people.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “It can be.”

Her eyes lifted again.