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“Grace and Shay were just telling me that the patients tonight are a trial,” Cole says softly, casual and conversational. “Can I take it that your night was similar?”

“They weren’t just a trial,” I say, the words huffing out on a sigh. “They were…complete assholes, Cole.”

He makes an interested sound in the back of his throat, and I turn to glare at him. His face again breaks into a smile. “What?”

“You’re beingannoying.”

“I’m listening! Being supportive!”

“In an annoying way!”

“Na-na,” Grace sighs, rolling her eyes at me, even as Shayne laughs.

“I’m serious!” I say, still shaking my head at him. “You’re like, beingsodamn polite! Making all these understanding noises and giving canned responses! You’re trying to do and say all therightthings – can you just like…be a person? Like if youthinkthat I’m a brat for calling all my patients assholes and making you move seats,” I gesture to the log with vehemence, “then justsaythat!”

Cole eyebrows raise as he stares at me in shock. Grace does too, but I don’t know why they’re all surprised, because I’mright. Cole isperformingnice-guy-ness – he always has the right answers, always knowswhatto say. But it’s practiced and it’s boring and dull andannoying.

“All right,” Cole says, nodding, hearing me. And then, as we all watch, he visibly lets go of some of his Princely pretense, his body relaxing, his shoulders slumping a bit, his face falling into less practiced lines.

I nod, turning back to my friends.

Grace raises an eyebrow at me, her mouth stern. “You’re being a serious jerk, Nadia.”

“Andthank youfor expressing that, Grace! I appreciate your candid response!”

She shakes her head, not letting me get away with it.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” I mutter, meaning it even if I’m still bitter. “I’m sorry, Cole, that wasn’t very nice or gracious of me. You were just being polite.”

“It’s cool,” he says. “I get it. You had a hard night and you’re not…wrong. Sometimes I lean on being polite as a way to keep back what I really think. I was sort of raised to believe that…being polite and noncommittal was priority number one.”

“Well, not if you want to getcloseto us, it’s not,” I mutter, looking down at my cup. “If you think I’m crazy because I need sugar water when I’m mad, like some kind of furious hummingbird –“

He bursts out laughing.

“Then justtellme you think I’m crazy,” I finish. But even as I scold, I feel some of my anger and tension slipping away. Cole has…kind of a nice laugh, or whatever. It’s hard to be in a bad mood around him.

Which is stupid.

“Na-na needs more nice juice,” Shayne whispers, tapping a finger on the bottom of my cup. I take the opportunity to look away from Cole, sipping from my cup.

“Okay, okay,” Cole says, sighing happily. “I’ll be more honest and genuine. So, your patients were assholes?”

“Yes,” I say, nodding and glancing at my girls. “They were for you too?”

Both Shayne and Grace nod. Then Grace looks beyond me to Cole. “Do you have any insight into that?” she asks, frowning at him. “Like, why were these ones so much worse than the ones we had on the first night?”

“Because…” Cole says with a sigh, shaking his head. He grimaces and looks around the camp before leaning in closer to us, speaking low. “Look, can you guys keep this…between us?”

As one, all three of us nod.

“All right,” Cole says, sighing and leaning closer. “Then, in the name of being morerealandclose,” he shoots me a little glare, “I’ll tell you what I know.”

I just stare expressionless at the Prince, waiting patiently, regretting nothing.

He sighs. “Look, it’s notverypublic knowledge yet, but the assault on the main camp last night? It was…a disaster.”

My eyes go wide.