“Is he having sex with Dianna?” Roccurem’s six eyes popped open, all white and opaque, surprised at my bluntness. He recovered quickly and closed all but two. “He is with your queen, yes.” Vincent dropped his head into his hands. “Oh, gods.” I laughed. “Please tell me that Vincent’s noise complaint, slash possible murder call from Onuna, was because of them. Please, Roccurem, give me this little speck of joy.” “I hate you,” Vincent groaned.
