What else was I supposed to call him?” He raises an eyebrow. “A servant? A footman?” I open my mouth. Close it. Grey’s not done. “A slave, my lady. A guard.” “But she picked prince,” Jake snaps. “Get over it.” Grey ignores him. “The healer’s concubine?” Jake snorts, but twin spots of pink find his cheeks. “Noah probably would have loved that.”
