Zeke furrowed his brows, shooting Malachi a cold glance. "Can you stop spouting nonsense?"
Malachi snorted under his breath, walking over. "You know damn well if it's nonsense or not. Nothing shameful about admitting you're uncomfortable."
Zeke's expression turned stiff, a flash of annoyance glinting in those emerald eyes. "She can say whatever she wants, none of my business."
Malachi cast him a sideways look. "Always acting like you're dead inside—seriously, I don't get you. If you like, just like, if you hate, just hate. Why bottle it up? Isn't that exhausting?"
He chuckled, patting his shoulder. "Alright, since you don't care, stop thinking about it and get to work."
He turned on his heel and headed for the saltworks.
Zeke stood there for a long while, then headed over to the saltworks himself.
Just as he got there, he saw Corbin early in the morning raging at the saltworks, face dark and violent—clearly in a foul mood.
