Nolan met her gaze, amused. "So come at me," he replied, stepping forward until they were only a breath apart.
She froze, eyes flicking between his face and the set of his mouth. "No, Master," she said quickly, surprise and something sharper under the words. "I… I don't want to face you right now."
Nolan's smile softened. "Oh? Not ready?"
"No." She swallowed, and her fingers tightened on the hilt. "I don't want to face you. I want to face him." She jabbed a finger toward Damian.
Damian straightened, eyebrows rising as every head turned to him. "Me?" he said, incredulous.
"Yes, you." Celia's voice trembled at the edges but did not break. "I can't let him stay here. I want Master all to myself. I don't want to share him."
Nolan's mind flickered for a moment—Did Damian do something? Why the sudden hostility?—but his face remained calm. "Celia," he said gently, "why do you feel that way?"
