The air in the room became heavier, as if the heirs couldn't argue with it.
Arion's gaze flickered to her. "That is the smartest thing someone of age can say."
"Aside of telling you that Dean really likes you?" Sylvia asked with a predatory grin.
For half a second, the room froze.
Dean didn't breathe.
His entire body went still in the way prey went still when it realized the predator had learned language.
Then Arion laughed. A genuine laugh, warm, caught off guard, and entertained, as if Sylvia had landed a hit right through protocol and into his ribs.
Dean's soul attempted to exit his body and file for asylum.
"Sylvia," Dean hissed, his voice tight with mortification.
Sylvia looked pleased with herself, which was the worst possible outcome. "What? It's true."
"It is not—" Dean started.
