every world. “That song you belted out, I despise it almost as much as this apple.”
I tried to take the high road. Actually, I didn’t. I contemplated the high road but chose to stay the course. “Must you always be so vindictive?”
“Vindictive?”
His underhanded criticism and the sight of the stupid apple spoiled the sweetness lingering on my tongue. “Never mind.”
“I didn’t say I hated your singing; I said I hated the song.”
I stared at a bouquet of giant green lollipops spilling from a tall vase beside another turquoise door. “Where do you think that door leads? Back outside?”
A broad wall of navy fabric that smelled of sweat, loam, and man thwarted my sight of the door. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I’d rather not stay on the subject of my mikos-charming skill that obviously doesn’t charm you.”
“You really only hear what you want to hear. I repeat: I. Despise. The song.” Did he hope his clipped tone would help me understand? I understood fine without him having to mimic a droid.
Borrowing his tone, I answered, “I. Don’t. Like it. Either.”
“Then why did you ask the damn DJ to play it all freaking night?”
I blinked. “You were there?”
His jaw reddened. I didn’t think he was embarrassed as much as miffed I hadn’t noticed he was part of my lucionaga entourage.
“I never asked him to play it all night. I just went to tell him it was good.” I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear, flinching at the sting. “Until he played it over and over. Then I thought it was annoying.” After a beat, I said, “Sorry for having missed your attendance.”
“It’s fine.” He didn’t sound fine about it.
“Were you at the club for fun or for work?”
“Fun. Until you came along.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“That’s not— What I meant was, if I’m off duty but in your presence, I keep an eye out for potential risks.”
“Should’ve gone to another club the second you saw me arrive.”
Silence beat loudly between us before he said, “Yeah. I should’ve.”
“Why didn’t you?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Your ear’s bleeding.”
I glanced down at my fingertips, red where I’d touched my wound, and rubbed them together. My blood turned ochre before flaking off. “So? Why did you stay?”
“Because it was a new club, and I wanted to see what all the rage was about.”
Made sense. What didn’t make sense was how disappointed his reason for hanging around made me feel.
Before he could sense my curious and confusing musings, I sidestepped him and headed toward the far door.
When I reached for the handle, he added, “And because I don’t trust human men around you. They swarm you. And it’s worse in clubs, under the influence of alcohol.”
“They do not swarm me.”
“Because your guards are tasked with keeping them away.”
“Well, it would be nice if they stopped doing that,” I huffed. “I’m not some helpless kid. I can take care of myself. Like you love to remind me, I’m the Trifecta.” I opened the door a crack, enough to peek behind it and make sure the ground beyond—hardwood . . . good, we weren’t back outside—wasn’t crawling with snakes. It wasn’t. “Seriously, Remo, I’d really appreciate it if you stopped alienating me from people.”
“It’s for your own safety.”
“Is it?”
As he approached, his lips jammed together.
“Is it for my safety?” I repeated.
He wrapped his hand over the edge of the turquoise wood and drew it wider. “A spiral. Your favorite.”
I guessed the topic of ostracizing Amara was closed. For now. “At least the stairs lead up.” I didn’t feel like spending any more time in a basement.
Slender openings had been carved into the coarse husk, acting as windows. As we plodded up the stairs, I glanced through one. The mist, which had been high overhead when we’d arrived, was now draped over the land making it seem as though the calimbors were rooted in clouds.
“Do you think this is what Neverra looked like under my grandfather’s reign?”
Remo peered out one of the openings. “It’s exactly what it looked like. Have you never seen the paintings of our land from that time?”
“I saw some pencil sketches but never a painting. Where did you see one?”
“Grandfather has a couple in his home.”
“He probably misses the mist.”
I sensed Remo’s eyes on the back of my neck even though I was giving the wooden stairs my full attention, desperate to avoid another tumble.
“Believe it or not, prinsisa, my grandfather was opposed to the creation of the mist. He told your grandfather it was a mistake.”
I raised my