He turns at the door and looks back at me, holding my gaze. “Third floor, south wing, second door on the right. The wards will let you in.” His barracks room. “Let me guess—warded for sound and to let in you, me, and anyone you tug through?” The idea of him using that soundproofing for breaking armoires with someone else is enough to curdle the soup in my stomach. We might not be together, but jealousy’s not exactly a rational emotion. “No, Violet.” He lifts both swords overhead, then slips them into the sheaths on the pack behind him with practiced expertise and a hint of a smirk. “Just you
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FUCK SERIOUSLY???
