"So where's my gun?" "You don't get one," Lord Straik snaps at her. "I don't even know if that keffing idiot should have one." "Probably not," Adiron says cheerily. He steers me around the long table and pulls out a chair for me, just like we're on a weird date of some kind. "I can't be trusted around weapons…or laundry." "Oddly specific," I murmur as I sit down.
