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“Yes.”

“Tell me the truth—you’re already embracing this archduke thing, aren’t you?”

He pulls his eyes away from his phone. “I just didn’t want your delicate skin to burn to a crisp.”

“Right… But you know, when you ride around in a car like this, you’re almost guaranteed to end up in a chase scene.”

“Don’t take this wrong, bunny, but it might be time for you to cut back on your screen time.”

I give him a wry look. “I’m stuck in the house all day. What do you expect me to do?”

“Have you thought about taking up paint by numbers?”

I bark out a laugh, startled. “What?”

“I’ve contemplated it myself,” he says, dead serious. “Self-care is all the rage these days, you know.”

“Paint by numbers are a form of self-care?”

“That’s what the ads on social media claim.”

“And you sayIneed to cut back on my screen time.”

Cassian smiles, setting his phone aside before he looks out the heavily tinted window and sighs. To some, it might sound like a contented noise, and I’m sure that’s what he’s hoping I’ll think it is. But it’s not.

Even though I haven’t known Cassian long, the unusual circumstances around our friendship have made us pretty close. And right now, I can tell he’s stressed and trying hard to hide it. It’s not a state I’m accustomed to seeing him in.

“You okay?” I ask, eyeing him.

“I’m fine.” He must feel my frown because he rests his head against the back of the seat and turns his face toward me. His smile is amused, and his dark eyes are slitted like a cat’s. The expression is a touch flirtatious, but he’s not fooling me.

“Is this about Sophia?”

He thinks about that for a minute, and then he nods. “Not only Sophia, but she is part of what’s troubling me.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Now that I’m officially in your line, we’re basically family.”

A weird look crosses Cassian’s face, but he schools it so quickly, I wonder if I imagined it.

“I shouldn’t care about Sophia,” he says. “We’ve been apart far longer than we were together, and she’s a criminal. We met at a crossroads in our lives. When we parted, we took two completely different paths.”

“So you’re upset because you care about her, and you feel like it’s wrong to worry about someone who has made bad decisions?”

“A lot of bad decisions,” he says dryly.

“Cassian.”

He chuckles. “The truth? I’m afraid this attachment I have to her makes me weak. Or maybe she is simply my weakness. I’ve tried to live an upright life—I’ve fought the darker urges thatcome with the disease. Meanwhile, she spreads the virus like a rabid fairy.”

I fight a smile, trying not to laugh at that perfectly delightful visual.

“Sophia has no place by my side,” he continues. “Especially now. She made her bed—if I were smart, I’d let her lie in it.”

“Then…why don’t you?”

His eyes sweep over my face. He looks like he wants to tell me something, but he’s hesitating. Finally, he says, “I can’t. Not this time.”

“Cryptic,” I gently tease. Though I want to press for more, I know he’ll tell me when he’s ready. So instead of hounding him, I say, “For what it’s worth, I think the fact that you still care about her is a testament to your character. Love isn’t a weakness—and neither is forgiveness.”