Orfeus looked at vem a little blankly, and then walked past. Ve didn’t fight her.

Luga sat as ever on his throne atop its pile of scrap metal, and looked at her with no change of expression as she strode in. Same face smeared with black war paint: thin brows, sharp nose. His hands were curled in, fingertips hidden as if incidentally.

Orfeus opened her mouth, and Luga spoke just a little faster. “And did you enjoy your leave?” he said mildly.

“Why did you set the Wolf on me?” Orfeus said without preamble.

Luga stood up. “A bold claim,” he said. “I cautioned you about being bold, I think.” He made his way slowly down the pile. It was clearer to her now that he was old, older even than he looked, with the wrinkles on his severe face and his fair hair paling to white. It wasn’t that he lost his footing on the scrap, but the care he took not to.

He stopped and stood a little in front of her, meeting her gaze with wintry green eyes. “Tell me, Fox. Why did you join the Order?”

“Answer my question, I’ll answer yours,” Orfeus snapped. Luga tilted his head very slightly. His hand didn’t go any closer to his gold-sheathed sword, but her eyes went to it anyway. She frowned at him. “I should think it was obvious. I joined to get answers from you, and I’ll be damned if I leave without them.”

“My Wolf is right, about this at least,” Luga said, looking down at her. “You are a liar.”

Orfeus drew in a breath, and let it out again. Her damn Blood had healed her piercing when it healed the tear in her ear, so she tucked her fang earring into her pocket. This wasn’t a situation Faol or any of the others could save her from.

“That’s the truth,” she said. “But fine. I had nowhere else to go, and everything I had wanted burned down. Maybe I wanted to become something dangerous, run with the monsters a while. Is that what you wanted to hear? You’re the king of the hypocrites, you can’t really condemn me.”

He smiled faintly, cracks on ice. “I don’t,” he said. “I suspected your ambition would be formidable, if channelled to a better purpose.” Even smiling, nothing changed in his eyes. “Faol was who I’d intended to take my place, one day, but I raised her too loyal. She does not have betrayal in her.” Orfeus took a step back from him, frowning, shaking her head at his words. Luga stayed where he was and stared coldly into her. “You, now, you have betrayal right in the bones of you. But you know when to make friends. You’d make an excellent Leader.”

It took her a second, the slight difference of intonation in his voice: not just leader but Leader.