I hadn't stopped grinning since I changed into a dry robe—still green, still indecent, but at least no longer clinging to my skin like a second one.
Shi Yaozu walked ahead of me in silence, dragging the unconscious assassin over his shoulder like a sack of rice. I followed two steps behind, practically floating, while Zhu Mingyu walked beside me, lips pressed into a grim line, his hand occasionally twitching like he wanted to pull me back by the elbow.
He didn't, though. Because he knew it wouldn't work.
"I don't think you understand how excited I am," I whispered as we turned down an unfamiliar hallway. "Secret chambers? Torture rooms? Forbidden hallways in the dead of night? This is everything I ever wanted."
"You should want a quiet life," he muttered.
"I should want a lot of things," I replied, my voice laced with amusement. "Doesn't mean I do."
