“What were you talking about so cheerfully with Caelum?”
I frown and try to turn around. When I manage to do so, I see he’s looking at me with a regal expression.
“Why do you care?”
“Because you’re my feeder.”
I study his expression longer than any sensible person would dare, and I see something—something that shouldn’t be there, or maybe something my subconscious wants to find.
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.”
I hold his gaze the whole time.
“Could Caelum offer me more freedom than I have now?”
My words unsettle him—his face tightens as he holds my gaze. I hear the leather reins creak under his grip and know I’ve hit a nerve.
“Maybe,” he admits. “Or maybe he just wants a rarity for his collection.”
By saying that, he’s admitting he agrees with Caelum. To both of them, there’s so
