of what Princess Gwendafyn and Lady Tari said, but it’s all nonsense.
“There are plenty of boundaries between us,” Myth babbled. “Big ones. Small ones…tall ones?”
Arvel chuckled, but he seemed most fascinated with her hair. She had tucked the silvery tail so it spilled over her shoulder, a move born of self-preservation because she kept accidentally yanking her head back when it got pinched between her body and her chair.
Arvel reached out, his hands hovering above her hair. “May I?” he asked politely.
No, you may not!
Myth struggled to spit out the words, to stop him from this potentially dangerous moment—dangerous, at least, for Myth—but she only managed a strangled squeak.
He must have taken that for consent, because he slipped his fingers between the locks of her hair. “It’s as soft as I imagined.”
Nonsense! Myth bellowed in her mind with all the strength her inert body was failing to give her lips at that moment. This is all nonsense! He has become addled in the head from too much work!
When he finally shifted his eyes from her hair to her face, Myth instinctively froze.
She had friends and companions. But none of them ever looked at her the way Arvel was right now. He stared at her as if she had hung the moon in the sky—or rather, because this was Arvel—given him a library filled with all the books in the world. It was soft and warm, and it somehow made her heart move oddly in her chest.
What is this? What is going on?!
Myth was ever-so-relieved when a knock on the door shattered the moment. “Yes?” she called in a strangled tone.
The door cracked open, and a familiar redhead peered in. “Myth?”
“Blaise!” Myth abandoned her chair so quickly she almost knocked it over. “What a pleasant surprise!”
Blaise looked from Myth, who was rapidly closing in on her, to Arvel—who was still leaning against Myth’s desk. “I apologize…am I interrupting something?”
“Nope! We’re taking a break right now, actually.” Myth looped her arm through Blaise’s so the apprentice wizard couldn’t run off and leave her alone with the Prince of Seduction.
“Myth is right,” Arvel said in his usual, bright tone. “I was about to go call for some refreshments. I’ll do that, and you two can visit undisturbed.” He pushed off Myth’s desk, his boyish smile back, but Myth wasn’t deceived.
She knew, now, the Prince of Seduction could pop out. AT. ANY. MOMENT!
In the spirit of self-defense, Myth towed Blaise farther into the office. “That sounds lovely. Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”
Arvel paused in the now open doorway. “Of course. Enjoy!” He winked at them, and closed the door behind himself.
Myth made a choking noise and retreated all the way to the pleasant window, dragging Blaise behind her. “Your sense of timing is perfect.”
“I’m…glad?” Blaise glanced at the closed door, shook her head, then carefully studied Myth. “How are you faring?”
Myth felt her cheeks burn. Is it that obvious that Arvel can upset my inner balance? Or did I just look excessively sappy and unprofessional when she first saw me? Oh dear.
Blaise, unaware of the upheaval she had just caused, blithely continued. “I know when you told me about the attack you said you were fine, but when you mentioned you decided to stay and work with His Royal Highness instead of returning to the trade workshop I didn’t know if you could still be affected by shock, so I thought I should check in on you.”
“Why would my staying be cause for concern?”
“Because I thought you’d jump at the chance to get back to the trade workshop—it would give you the opportunity to return to focusing on making it as a trade translator.”
“Oh.” Myth uncomfortably swallowed, and wondered how she could explain it to her friend.
When Arvel had given her the option to step aside, she considered it.
Even though she studied and practiced whenever she had the chance, she was well aware that staying on as Arvel’s social translator—even if she was helping him with the investigation—would hinder her career.
She’d still make it as a trade translator, but the process to graduation from apprentice to a fully certified translator would take longer than she had planned for. She had sacrificed so much as a student to race through her schooling, all because she wanted to be a part of the companionship found in the trade workshop.
But…what Arvel was doing was important.
His investigation into the Fultons was vital. And Myth wanted to support him in it.
And really, what are a few extra months of