I smiled prettily in response. "Having been the focus of amorous attention from pubescent boys as an adult woman, which is pretty much the only kind of attention pubescent boys have to offer, I would select your current growly self literally every time."

"Hmf," Dain said, snorting the sound out through his nose. He leaned back against the couch, angled so that he leaned against his shoulder instead of the spikes down his spine, tapping his fingers against my legs in what seemed like an idle gesture. "Your turn."

"Some human women do look at men like this," I said, holding the book up and twisting it back and forth to call attention to it. "This book was probably written by a woman, and it was definitely read mostly by women. It's a fantasy though, you know? This is the distillation of all the interesting and intense parts of falling in lust with someone, and there's a guarantee of a happily ever after, unlike the real world."

His ears shifted, turning like the guards' had, as if listening to the room.

I took it as interest and elaborated. "What makes the sort of intense situations in romance books satisfying and alluring is the removal of uncertainty. No matter the differences between the people, or their struggles, you know that in the end they're going to be in love and happy, and that it's going to last forever for them." I shrugged and put the book back down onto my lap, the grief waking inside of me, sharp talons clawing at the inside of my throat and heat pricking the corners of my eyes. "There's no guarantees in the real world," I said, my voice coming out harsh and shaky. "You can have nothing but happiness one moment and lose everything the next."

"And find yourself in a new world, with a frightening stranger," Dain said, his own voice smooth and emotionless.

I looked up at him and sniffed away the tears, rubbing at one eye with the heel of my hand. "Yes," I said. "Though I suppose we have a guarantee."

"Not for love," he said. The ends of his tails curled up and thudded back down against the ground. He sounded moody.

"No," I answered. "If you got a wild hair about it, you could make an attempt to be less nasty more of the time, and we could make a go at friendship, but that's in your court."

Dain's tails hit the ground again, a little harder. "And my second question?"

"No running monologue," I said, searching his face. "I spent some time cataloging your appearance in relief this morning, when you came in without a glamor, and that involved assessing the movement of your chest and the shape of your face, but I'm not doing it continuously."

"Relief," he said, looking at me. The question was implied, but I decided not to make him trade for it.