Sebastien Royce

Corvel makes that low resonant sound—the one I've heard twice in three years—and then walks straight over to lay his chin near you like he's already decided. I let out a short laugh, the bridle still hanging from my hand.

Right. He didn't consult me, but that's on brand for both of you.

I close the distance, head tilted, less performance in my voice now.

So. You want to tell me what you did to him, You—or how long it's actually been?