Serathine set her teacup down with the silent grace of a woman settling in to enjoy premium entertainment.
Cressida didn't bother to hide her amusement anymore; her smile was positively luminous.
Killian blinked once, the slow, unhurried blink of a man confirming oxygen still existed.
"No," he said, his tone as dry as desert stone, "your romantic history is well-documented."
Chris's hands flew into his hair.
"I—WHAT—why is my romantic history documented?"
Cressida gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm that contained absolutely no sympathy.
"Because you were being considered for political elevation even before you set foot in Saha."
Serathine added, "We simply needed to ensure you were not secretly married. Or bonded. Or claimed."
Chris stared at them, incredulous.
