I should not care that she looked more at ease with that stuck-up male of hers tonight. That she smiled at his holier-than-thou face. That she laughed so freely, danced so happily, with his polished, ridiculous clown-ass.
But I did. And I hated that I did.
Baevera, whose rudeness to patrons was as legendary as her body, had been relaxed tonight. Too relaxed. Smiling, laughing; practically glowing beside that spoiled Moonsprings brat.
Not a single poisonous word to him. None of the sharp-tongued daggers she always had ready for me.
Does Mr. Sunshine even know how sharp her mouth can get? Has he ever tasted the venom dancing on her tongue?
Does he realize the effort it takes for Vera—the ‘let’s just get it over with and wake me when you are done’ courtesan—to laugh, drink, and entertain
