Something about the Phaetyn prince infused me with warmth. I liked to think it was the qualities of his personality, but I suspected a fair portion of the warmth was due to more superficial traits. “Tell me, my Ryn, what was your childhood like? Tell me your favorite foods, your favorite colors, your favorite everything. I want to know all about you.” Tyrrik growled. “Maybe she doesn’t want to tell you.” The prince waved away Tyrrik’s protestation.
