Comhroinn Fuaime

Not intimidated—which was either confidence or stupidity. Elira respected both, in different ways. “Queen Vance,” Darius greeted smoothly. “I don’t like titles,” Elira replied. “Of course,” he said, smiling like he didn’t believe her. Her gaze slid to Adrian. “And you,” she said. “Are you part of the offer, or the decision-maker?” A flicker of something crossed his face—approval, maybe. “I insisted on being here,” Adrian said. “If my life is being negotiated, I prefer to be present.”