12
Petron had finally extricated Heather and Frankle from the crowd of probing questions that followed their display, insisting they be given a chance to rest and regain their strength. More than a few angry glances flashed his way as a result but they soon faded as it became clear how much the presentation had taken out of the two young ones, and they were allowed to retreat to the comfort of their beds. They were both probably deeply asleep by now, their dreams blank and empty, sleeping the sleep of the innocent.
Petron grimaced at the jealous rush that followed that thought. He hadn’t slept properly in months, not since Cortis’s uprising. Not since Wrex.
He grunted and pushed the painful flash of memory back down. Not here. Take my nights if you must but not here.
‘Petron.’
Daemi s
