“Fell vale,” says Lia Mara, and I look down. Gentle man. Far from it. I want to fight something into the ground. There’s a part of me that regrets that they already killed her attacker—for reasons that have nothing to do with interrogation. “I don’t feel very gentle right now,” I say. She uses my grip on her hand to pull herself to sitting. I should protest, but before I can, she tucks herself into the circle of my arm, her back against my chest, her head nestled under my chin. She draws my arm into her lap, and I hold her tight and sigh. “See?” she says softly. “Gentle.”
aUuuugghhh THEY ARE SO CUTE
