Page 47 of Outcast’s Vow

“What about me?” she asks. “Do you care what I think?”

I pause.

“I care now.”

“Oh.”

Another pause.

“Tell me, what do you think about me, wife?”

“I’ll keep you in the dark on that one,” she replies with a smirk.

I lean back.

“Ah. Touche.”

“Two can play your game, husband.”

I take a long drink of my own wine. She’s the only woman who’s ever left me lost for words, but I won’t let her see that. If I lose power, then I lose her respect. I’d become that lost boy who had to fight for every scrap, and I refuse that.

I put my glass down.

“Now, indulge me,” I say. “Tell me about yourself. What do you crave when you’re not taunting me or using my own lines against me?”

“Crave what? You said you had a file on me. You claim to know everything about me.”

“I have. I’ve read it.”

“Then stop pretending you can even ask that question,” she retorts.

“Tell me something that’s yours.”

“My interests?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I want to hear something I can’t find in my file,” I say.

Sylvie hesitates.

“Well, there’s this artist I really admire. Juniper Wren. She’s from the UK. I love all her work and have done so since I was a teenager and had to give a presentation on her in high school. I’ve been really wanting to get a painting of hers for a very long time.”

“Why haven’t you? It’s not like you’re begging for the funds.”

“Juniper is a recluse,” Sylvie replies. “She’s rarely seen in public. She rarely sells her artwork, and even then, the auctions for those precious pieces are vicious. I’m trying my best, but I would love to have a bit of her soul hanging on my wall. I just love everything she’s done.”

“You’re an art lover,” I remark. “I see it now.”

“Only for Juniper Wren’s work. I’m obsessed. That wouldn’t be in a file.”

“See, that is something I didn’t already know about you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”