He looked away.
She felt an odd spark of satisfaction.
There was a long silence. Ferron seemed completely lost in his thoughts, and Helena was so drunk she could barely see straight. She closed her eyes, drifting. When she reopened them, he was staring at her.
She looked back and couldn’t help but think he looked different now.
Older. Or perhaps she was incredibly intoxicated.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, struggling against dizziness. “Do you feel the array? Can you tell it’s affecting you?”
“Yes,” he said with a faint nod. “I didn’t think I could change, but it’s like being cold-forged. I’m gradually being beaten into a new iteration of myself. It doesn’t countermand who I am, but I feel certain things less than I did. It’s easier to be ruthless and focused, harder to diss
