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Tyrant Luciano Zarkov “And what exactly,” I asked slowly, “is preventing you from hearing it now?” Katherine blinked once. Then immediately avoided my eyes. Interesting. I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back slightly against the kitchen counter while watching her far too closely for her comfort. “You are nervous,” I concluded. Her head snapped back toward me instantly. “Nervous?” she repeated with scandalized offense. “Me? Never.” A lie. An obvious one. She immediately grabbed the tray of malformed pastries again and shoved it directly toward me like a shield. “I just mean…” she continued quickly, “don’t ruin the mood.” “The mood.” “Yes.” She gestured vaguely around the kitchen. “This. Pastries. Domestic happiness. Me trying very hard not to burn down your palace k