Amaris’s face twisted as if she were waiting for a slap that never came. Her brows lowered deeply. Her lips remained parted in an unclear objection. She looked to Odrin, but he appeared to be smiling with their success. She raised her eyes to meet Samael and felt her whole body cower at the realization that he was staring at her fully. His gaze was nothing predatory, but it was unquestioningly intimidating.

She had the disjointed sensation that she might be dreaming.

What had happened? After her tantrum, Samael had adjourned the meeting? Could this be some cruel form of sarcasm? Moments ago she had been certain they were about to vote her out.

Instead, they were filing out of the room.

Amaris stood as well, feeling too awkward to sit as they walked on either side of her to shuffle from the dining room. Odrin clapped her on the shoulder as he passed, and while his smile was relatively warm, hers was still a mask of confusion. It took fewer than three minutes for the room to clear and the boy to take the abandoned pints from the stone table. What on the All Mother’s lighted earth had just happened?

She and the fae were alone.

Samael remained standing, backlit by the flames of their large fireplace. He made a sweeping motion as he returned to his chair, reclining in a way that was meant to be disarming.

“Amaris of No Home and No People, come take a seat by me, won’t you?”

She twisted her mouth into discomfort but had few options. Odrin was gone. She hadn’t understood the meeting’s outcome. She didn’t know whether or not she trusted this man and his invitations, but she politely abandoned her chair on the far side and walked closer to the fireplace. The idea of sitting directly beside him made her uneasy. She kept an empty chair between the two of them, taking a seat slightly off to his left.

Samael relaxed into his chair, waiting with impressive patience for her to talk.

She was quite sure he wouldn’t have spoken at all if it hadn’t been for the inarticulate, near-strangled sound she made as she shook her head. She was too confused to compose words.

He asked, “Are you to tell me you don’t know of your gift?”

She stared at him stupidly.

“But surely, you’ve noticed this reaction before?”

She shook her head.

More to himself than her, he said, “Imagine going through life without bothering to consider the people in it or the implications of your actions? My, my, what a privilege that must be.”

She wasn’t sure whether she felt insulted or embarrassed, but nothing about this exchange assuaged her fears.

Samael frowned. “You do know you aren’t fully human, correct?”