Fenir cleared his throat. “What exactly do you object to, Ravyn? She’s clever, striking.” I wondered the same thing. The Captain’s adamant refusal to court me—not even court me, pretend to court me—felt like a dozen wasp stings, leaving me wounded, hot with anger. “Make no mistake, she’s beautiful. Only, I—” Ravyn’s voice cut out. Then, as if the words were bitter in his mouth, “If the ruse will help…” He heaved a sigh. “I’ll try. Though I doubt I’ll play a convincing suitor.” I huffed hot air out my nostrils. “Don’t do me any favors,” I said into the din. As if I would ever deign to court
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