Then I felt the cool touch of a mind against mine, but rather than the light, delicate touch I associated with Torran, this was heavier, clumsier. “Reading a human’s mind without their permission is extremely rude,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “It can be viewed as an attack.”

Cien’s chin tilted up. “Your shields are terrible.”

He looked so much like Torran right then that I had to bite my lip to suppress my smile. “Even if I didn’t have any shields at all, it’s still rude.”

He frowned. “Humans are strange.”

“Maybe it’s Valoffs who are strange,” I said. “But I bet you wouldn’t read another Valoff’s mind without permission, shields or no.”

Cien ducked his head and his pale cheeks flushed red.

“If you want to know something about me, just ask.”

“You could lie.”

“I could, but I won’t.” I waved at Torran, who’d been quietly watching our conversation. “Ask your uncle if you don’t believe me.”

Cien’s attention turned to his uncle, but he still watched me out of the corner of his eye. They spoke telepathically for a moment before Cien turned back to me, his eyes wide. I would’ve given just about anything to know what Torran had told him.

After a long pause, Cien asked, “Will you hurt me?”

“No. Nor will I allow anyone else to hurt you if I can prevent it.”

The suspicion didn’t drain from his expression. “If you make cookie,” he started, then paused with a questioning glance at Torran. After a bit of silent communication, Cien corrected himself. “If you make cookies, can I have two?”

I smiled at him. “Well, you’ll have to ask your uncle for permission, but as far as I’m concerned, you can have as many as you want.”

That earned me a shy smile, just the barest twitch of his lips. He inclined his head, as regal as the emperor he would one day become. “Okay. Make cookies.” At Torran’s pointed cough, he added, “Please.”

“I will have to enter the galley to cook,” I said. “Is that okay with you?”

Tension tightened his small frame, but he nodded.

I took the long way around so that I would pass behind Torran rather than Cien. As I did, I felt the lightest brush of a mind against mine. “Thank you,” Torran whispered into my head. The touch vanished before I could respond, but I gently tapped my fingers against his shoulder in acknowledgment.

“Cien is in the galley,” I said subvocally over the comm. “Avoid it for now because the kid is shaken. I’ll bring the cookies out when they’re done.”

I got back a wave of agreement.