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“Tell me about your master.” I nod. “He is eighth in line to the throne, the son of—” “No, no,” Caspida interrupts irritably. “Tell me what he is like.” “He is a gambler,” I say. There is no point in lying about these things. “He is bold, but reckless. Brave, but impetuous. A man who . . . holds grudges.” Pausing, I finish in a whisper, “He would risk his life to save someone else, without even thinking twice.” Caspida turns her head a bit, interest growing in her eyes. “And he sets out on a mad voyage and sails straight into a nest of jinn.” “My master is noble,” I say with a smile, “but I made no suggestions as to his intelligence.” — Jessica Khoury
Tell me about your master.”
I nod. “He is eighth in line to the throne, the son of—”
“No, no,” Caspida interrupts irritably. “Tell me what he is like.”
“He is a gambler,” I say. There is no point in lying about these things. “He is bold, but reckless. Brave, but impetuous. A man who . . . holds grudges.” Pausing, I finish in a whisper, “He would risk his life to save someone else, without even thinking twice.”
Caspida turns her head a bit, interest growing in her eyes. “And he sets out on a mad voyage and sails straight into a nest of jinn.”
“My master is noble,” I say with a smile, “but I made no suggestions as to his intelligence.