The room goes very still or maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s me trying not to breathe too hard or I might actually do something stupid.
I stand and take it. I suck in his words and I compress it into something small and dense behind my mind and I don’t move, don’t speak, don’t give him the reaction he may or may not be looking for.
My fingers are going to leave marks in my palm.
“As for your request,” he continues, “you’ve chosen a very inconvenient person to risk yourself over.”
I swallow whatever is burning in my throat. “Can you help me?”
“A council order isn’t a problem.” He responds quickly. “I’m a Strout. The name moves decisions, and changes things.” His eyes sharpen on me. “Though you’re doing an impressive job of eroding that influence lately.”
I still say nothing. And someh
