“You're dismissed, Lieutenant," the captain said evenly. "Go to your quarters.""Yes,sir,thank you,sir," Tadark squeaked, glancing about miserably before sloshing into the palace, his dignity as waterlogged as his boots.”

“What is wrong with Steldor?" my father asked, probably thinking illness since a shirt now covered his torso, concealing the last of his bandages."He was wounded," Cannan said, leaving out any hint of the strife we had experienced. "He's on the mend now." He cast a glance toward Nantilam, who still stood stiffly in the background, hands bound, Halias on alert next to her. "We have the High Priestess to thank for that.""Not that she would have assisted willingly," Halias muttered, but she bowed her head toward the captain in appreciation of his acknowledgement.”

“Tadark, this phrase is probably meaningless to you as it is so oft repeated, but do be quiet.”

“You're not wearing that," he informed me. "Yes,I am.""No,you're not.""Yes,I am.""You'll look ridiculous.""I beg your pardon?" I said, affronted."There's nothing wrong with your dress, or the way it fits you," he clarified with a roll of his eyes, as if he were explaining the obvious to a simpleton. "But it just won't do.""And why not?""Your attire doesn't complement mine at all."This as entirely accurate and pleased me greatly. He wore black pants and an ivory shirt under a fitted gold-and-emerald-green doublet, an emsemble that made him appear annoyingly godlike, but which was very near horrendous next to sky blue."Then our garb will complement our personalities," I retorted.”

“It's not good, is it?"Galen's reply was convincingly nonchalant. "I've seen worse.""Yes-on a dead man."Galen averted his eyes for a moment before giving a reply. "Don't talk like that.""Sorry.""Don't apologize, either."Steldor gave a wry laugh. "Would you mind telling me what I am allowed to do?"Galen couldn't suppress a smirk, thought it was laced with sadness, as he recognized the beginning of one of their classic bickering contests."Sure-you can shut your trap."Steldor was smirking, too, then he grimaced, arching his back as unexpected pain shot through him, and new drops of sweat materialized on his forehead."Steldor-" Galen started, humor lost, reaching toward him with undetermined intent. Steldor smacked his hand away with as much vigor as he could muster."No," he growled, gritting his teeth. "Ignore it.I don't want to think about it."Galen nodded, thought he looked uneasy. "Just tell me what to do," he said in a small voice. "Tell me to shut my trap again.”

“He took a breath, then proclaimed, 'Lady Shaselle of Hytanica, I am in love with you.' I burst into laughter, pulling my legs up to ease my aching stomach muscles. He rolled onto his side to look at me, propping his head up with his hand. 'I'm serious,' he insisted, grinning foolishly at me. 'You're drunk.' 'True, but even drunks can be in love.”

“What do you need?" I asked, sitting beside him and fumbling through the mishmash in my lap. "How about this?"I examined a container and read the label."Will belladonna do?""That's a poison, dear.I'd prefer if you didn't give me that." Even with his ghastly injury,his dry humor survived.”