Arian tried his hardest not to look at the body.
He knew, logically, that the man had come to kill him. He knew it was necessary. But knowing something and accepting it were two very different things. His eyes kept drifting toward the ground instead, toward the disturbed dirt, the broken leaves, anything that wasn't that.
"He…" His throat felt tight. "Who was he? And how did you—"The words fell apart before he could finish them.
Caius noticed the way Arian had flinched earlier, the way he'd backed away like a startled animal. Something had tugged at him then. Not anger. Not irritation. Not frustration. Definitely not pity. He didn't know what it was, and that annoyed him more than it should have.
"It's my business," Caius said flatly. "It doesn't concern you."
Arian stared at him in disbelief, "He tried to kill me," he shot back. "I think that makes it my business."
Caius turned away.
