There were so, so many things I would rather have done in that moment than look at Luther. Feed myself to the gryvern. Crawl on my bare hands and knees over the shattered remains of my glass jars. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned to face him. Oh, the Prince was pissed. I’d only seen the barest traces of emotion in him before. Worry, when his sister had collapsed. Satisfaction, when his cousin had chastised me on my last visit. Annoyance, when... well, pretty much any time I was around. But his face now was unfiltered fury. His already severe features had hardened into unyielding steel, his blue
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