The world warped.
One second Althea was gripping Lucian's hand in the dim hallway outside her solar, the next her stomach lurched sideways and the air snapped back into place. She stood in the middle of a quiet room.
She yanked her hand back like it was burned.
"What did you just do?"
"Walked," Lucian said, like it was obvious. He moved to the chair by a small table and sat. He didn't look tired. He didn't look anything. "Sit down."
Althea stayed standing. Her eyes darted—a bed, a washstand, one window shuttered. An inn room. His inn room.
Her hand went to the hilt of her sword.
Lucian saw it and gave a slight shrug. "Keep it out if you want. Doesn't bother me."
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not. I'm being practical." He leaned back. "You look like you're about to fall over. Sitting helps."
Althea's jaw clenched. She didn't sit. She took a slow breath, forcing the Earl's mask back into place.
"How did you get us here?" she asked.
"Took a shortcut."
"That's not an answer."
