Page 65 of A Dose of Agony
“And you being here now helps.” I scoot a little closer.
He leans in, pressing his lips to my hair.
“How long will you be here? An hour?” I ask.
“No, actually—” he straightens, face still tense “—I intend to stay for a full week.”
I sit up. “Really?”
“Which means we can go to classes if you want. Well, you can go to classes. I will not be leaving your side the entire time.”
My heart drops. Shit. That sounds absolutely amazing, except it means I won’t have the chance to work on my very, very important work with Bea. I’m going to have to pass a message on to Manuela. Or will she already know?
And I can keep working on my potions, but the research on specific species will be suspicious.
Crap, I need to hide those notes.
My stomach clenches, already regretting agreeing to keep this from him. How can I go behind his back like this?
But how can I not?
I remember Bea’s tears. Her desperate desire for us to be friends. Could I turn on her? Can I relinquish the power it gives me to actively be a part of the battle against my enemies?
Jarron has been willing to allow me to fight before, but this time it’s different. This time, it requires trust in a person he considers a traitor, someone who betrayed him.
“How are things back at home?” I ask, forcing my thoughts back to the present.
“Well enough,” he says.
I resist a frown. Is that the truth? “Well enough you can take a break from the politics? Or well enough you had to leave for your own safety?”
Jarron whips his attention to me. “Why would you think that?”
I shrug. “Because I get no information. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You can tell me if something is wrong.”
He nods absently. “Things are complicated. It’s hard to explain it all because there’s a lot and so much of it is cultural.”
“But it’s good for me to begin learning, isn’t it?”
Unless he doesn’t intend for you to be involved, a little voice says.
My stomach sinks again. At this rate, I’m going to have an ulcer soon.
“Of course,” he says, with a forced smile.
Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought. “So, tell me about it.”
He sighs. “What do you want to know?”
“Maybe tell me about the Bright Tribunal.”
His eyes widen. “How do you—”
“Professor Zyair,” I say quickly, “has been giving me private lessons here. We figured keeping my Orizian studies going is for the best.”
Jarron stands, shoulders tense. “Laithe can give you instruction—”
“Laithe is not a teacher. And they rarely give me any information. I have to ask ten questions to get a simple answer. I don’t understand why this bothers you.”
