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“I’m listening,” she spoke. It wasn’t until then that I realized I had lapsed into a long silence.

“There are not many known cases of it,” I began. “But those who share this… ability are called truthsayers. People who are very sensitive to auras, specifically when they distort from telling a lie to the point where it physically affects them. The gift, if you can call it that, manifested when I was a young boy, so I’ve had to learn how to cope with exposure to lies for a long time. Hence, the ring.”

I lifted my hand for her inspection, and Haron set the ring aside and moved to lightly grip my wrist to turn it. “So, this ring is designed to help you negate the side effects? Such as what?”

It was impressive how well she was taking this. I hadn’t told many people, mainly Beolf and my parents, and even then, it took a healthy dose of convincing for them to see the whole picture. “When I was young, I would become extremely nauseous, to the point of becoming bedridden sometimes. And if I told a lie… well, it was an even more unpleasant experience.”

“And this ring, you use it to distract your senses? Like displacing pain to lessen it?” she asked very matter-of-factly, still looking over the injury with the tumbler in her other hand.

Imagining any other lady of the court in a similar position almost brought a chuckle to my lips. They would have likely feigned being faint or otherwise worried over the hand like a doting mother. Haron's cool and detached perusal of the blood and self-inflicted injury was yet another refreshing take. It was almost like I could share any matter of brutal and morbid parts of my life — my role as royalty, or what I had done to clear the path to rule — and she would be totally unbothered.

It was tempting, bringing her into the fold. I squashed the horrible idea as soon as it crept into my head.

“Yes, precisely.”

“Hmm…” The non-answer was maddening. “Did this happen when you were talking with that mother and her daughter at the ball?”

I blinked, shocked at her sharp observation. “Yes, I suppose it did. I usually end up a least a little bloody after attending those kinds of functions.” I tried to lighten the topic. “The amount of lies I have to tell to keep the nobles off my back would likely throw me into a coma otherwise.”

Haron hummed again, not giving away her thoughts on much.

“You are like a breath of fresh air, though. I have yet to meet someone besides Beolf who doesn’t lie on a regular basis. It’s something I admire greatly about you, given our short time knowing each other.”

Her head tilted down then, as if she were looking at the floor. Now the silence was maddening. “Did I… say too much?” I asked.

“No.” She let go of my wrist, and I mourned the loss of her touch. “I appreciate you telling me something like that. I’m sure it’s a difficult ability to live with. Thank you… for your honesty.”

She didn’t seem particularly affected by the information I just dropped on her head, but I was rattled all the same. I pulled the other glove off to toss it with its pair. “Shall we cheers again?” My voice was hopeful.

This time, she laughed and clinked her cup to mine again. With the other hand, she reached to pull the veil from her head so she could take a drink unhindered.

I had been waiting all night to rip away the damn thing that hid her face. “No, allow me.”

Fortunately, we were close enough to a side table set between the two chairs for me to reach over and set my drink down.Haron waited patiently for me to remove the headpiece, but I could feel her smirking at me before I even saw the hint of her full lips peek from beneath the fabric. As much as I would have liked to yank it from her head, I carefully pulled the pins holding it to her hair so it would not disturb the elegant twist she had styled it into.

A groan tried to fight its way from my throat when her face was finally exposed. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the tension that had built when she hadn't been by my side at Pid's ball, but this close, her beauty was enough to make the gods weep. Being able to look this closely into those mesmerizing eyes, I realized the left one appeared entirely black. The whole iris was overtaken by her pupil, leaving such a small sliver of it behind there was no way of telling what color it was.

“Did you suffer from a head injury on this side?” My thumb brushed the corner of her left temple.

She smirked, stepping back to take a small sip of her drink. “Is that a subtle way of asking why I’m here in this room with you, alone? Because I’ve fallen and hit my head?”

The insult was so underhanded it took me a minute to realize it, but when I did, a deep, belly-shaking laugh almost had me bending over. Haron was chuckling too, holding her elbow with her free hand and keeping the glass lifted close to her face as she wandered around the room. Behar followed behind with his tail wagging as if showing her the space.

“I didn’t mean to infer you were brain damaged.” I finally managed to speak, after much gasping and wiping tears from my eyes. “But the way your pupil is dilated, I have only seen something similar when Beolf fell from his kisteral in our adolescent years. The healer had checked his eyes, and the right one looked just like yours. He was put on bedrest for a week over it and complained the whole time.”

Haron scoffed. “Well, in his case, it probably is a brain injury. That would explain a lot, actually. Have you checked his eyes recently? It could still be there.”

“Be nice. I told you, he’s a childhood friend and my general.”

She hummed again, another non-answer, wandering around the edge of the room until she came back to my side. “You two seem very close,” she observed.

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes. We grew up together, trained together… his father was more of a father figure than my own. And he was the previous general until a couple of years ago. He was kicked in the chest by an untamed kisteral. It killed him instantly.”

She pressed her glass to the center of her own chest as if in sympathy. “That is unfortunate. But,” Haron sipped her goldtine again, “I am happy you have someone like him as an ally, even if he is a blundering idiot. I don’t have to like him to respect his loyalty to you.”

A wistful look crossed her face then, eyes going distant as if recalling a memory.

“Do you keep in touch with your childhood friend? I assume even you have one." I tried to hide my curiosity with a little joke. I wanted to knoweverythingabout her, whatever scraps of information she was willing to drop for me.