Freya keeps staring at me, waiting for an answer.
The cup stays between her hands, though the tea no longer gives off much steam. The question about Duvilin has changed the air in the room. The small wooden pegasi on the shelf, the stars on the ceiling, and the cloth doll seem to belong somewhere else now, far from the woman sitting in front of me.
I could lie.
A rare skill. An ancient contract. A manifestation tied to my class. Any of those explanations would be hard to disprove and easy to accept for someone who just watched what Duvilin did.
But Freya wouldn't believe it all the way.
Worse, I'd be asking her to trust me while I hid the one truth that could explain why I keep insisting on holding her close.
I set the cup down on the table.
"I'll tell you."
Her posture loosens just enough to show she's waiting for the rest.
"But first I want to propose a deal."
The suspicion comes back to her eyes.
"You just got rid of one contract and you already want to make another?"
