63
“Allow me,” says Dorian. “I’d love a chance to exercise my diplomatic skills.”
Ashur shakes his head. “I don’t want to risk it, Dorian,” he says, making sure he speaks softly enough his voice won’t carry to the people encircling you. “You’re our only safe contact in the Magisterium right now.”
Dorian raises an eyebrow at Ashur, but doesn’t argue the point. What he says instead is, “Well, it’s far safer than a fight, wouldn’t you say? And we certainly can’t afford to lose someone as prominent as the…” he pauses, glances at you, and continues, “… leader of the Shadow Dragons.”
Ashur sighs, but Dorian is a difficult man to argue with.
“All right,” he says. “Let’s see this impressive diplomacy of yours.”
Dorian hesitates. “When I said diplomacy,” he says, “you know I meant…”
Dorian smiles and steps toward the attractive man. It’s kind of amazing to see his posture shift, the look on his face communicate warmth and welcome, even toward someone who is so obviously not a friend.