“You have such faith in the male gender,” he said blandly.

“I made a good living because cocks make men stupid,” she countered, picking up her glass to sip her wine.

“And Falonar’s cock kept pointing in Nurian’s direction?”

She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from spraying wine all over the table. “Now that’s a picture,” she said when she finally managed to swallow. “No, it wasn’t that obvious. Mostly because I was in the way,” she added softly.

Daemon nodded. “A Gray-Jeweled witch who is skilled with a knife . . . and is also related to Lucivar.”

“I think Falonar couldn’t figure out how to step back.”

“Probably afraid that if you didn’t rip his balls off, Lucivar would.”

“Exactly.”

“So you told him things weren’t working between you and packed your bags.”

She shrugged. “Seemed the only thing to do.”

“Did you love him?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “I felt . . . special . . . for a little while. I’ve had sex with hundreds of men over the centuries, but I’ve never had a lover. I’m feeling bruised, but I’m not heartbroken over it.”

Dipping the last piece of lobster into the butter, Daemon held it out to her. “Someday you’ll find a man worthy of you.”

She looked into his eyes, scared that she’d see some underlying message. What she saw was the warm affection of an older brother. She took the bite from his fork.

Easing back, she enjoyed the warmth for a moment before saying, “Your turn.”

He set his fork on his plate with painful care. Then he picked up his wine and studied it.

“I’m losing her,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but . . . I’m losing her.”

Surreal stiffened. “What you are talking about?”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe I’m no longer what Jaenelle wants.”

“Wait,” she snapped. “Just wait.” She studied the misery in his eyes. “You really believe that.”

“She isn’t comfortable being around me anymore.”

Surreal shook her head. “I agree something isn’t right between you, but, Daemon, I’m sure it isn’t that.”

“You were only at the Hall a few days.”

“Which was long enough to know you’re going down the wrong path if you think Jaenelle doesn’t love you anymore.”

He closed his eyes, shutting her out, but not before she saw the pain and desperation he was choking back.

She reached across the table and took his hand. Worry spiked through her when his fingers curled around hers in a fierce hold, a sure sign he was looking for reassurance.

“She won’t talk to me,” he said. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.”

He opened his eyes, disbelief warring with hope.