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I wait for him to take a step closer, like memory-Julia did. He doesn’t. So I do. “You waived the punishment. Rhode dropped it.” Delo nods. I am nose to nose with him, testing it. Seeing if he’ll order me to back down. I can hear his breath, feel its warmth as it hitches. He remains where he stands, gaze steady.
“Told you,” Phemi tells Ethelo. Ethelo is a passus, forsaken by dragons, and it leaves him prone to joking—about himself, and about others. He wolf-whistles at Delo as he gets to his feet. “We’ve been waiting on this one for years, brother.” He lifts a mug of tea as if in toast and bows with a flourish. “Heartfelt congratulations to you both.”

