Sairis's POV
Greta let out a low chuckle, then stepped closer. Too close.
He could smell the faint trace of cinnamon on her breath from the tea she had just taken. It made his stomach tighten.
"Loreen," she said softly. "Is he into men?"
Sairis bit the inside of his cheek, hard enough to ground himself. He needed to get out of this room. He needed distance from her, from this line of questioning that was turning into something dangerous.
"That assumption is a dangerous one," he said quietly, keeping his voice controlled. "No matter who you are, your Majesty, if such words reach the court, they will not be taken lightly."
Greta let out a short snort. "Not if it is true."
Sairis held her gaze. "Truth is not always what people choose to hear," he replied. "Sometimes, it is what they want to use."
Greta's eyes narrowed slightly. "So it is true then?"
"I did not say that," Sairis answered, careful with every word. "I am saying that you are asking the wrong person."
