Arion leaned back slightly, amusement warming his face in a way that made him look younger and far less princely. "Sylvia, emotionally trapped between Commander Lancaster's tragic shoulders and Nero of Saha's death-angel seduction over fried chicken."
Dean opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then, despite himself, his lips twitched.
"Do not make it sound funny."
"It is horrifying," Arion said. "But also funny."
"The problem," Dean said, lifting a finger, "is that I know both Nero and Sylvia well enough to understand that the combination of the two planning something is never good. Nero is very good at hiding cues and blaming others when those around him don't see what he feels, despite the fact that he hides his emotions like a dragon shielding its treasure. Sylvia is usually wearing her emotions clearly and bothering everyone until they notice them. So what is going on?"
Arion's amusement faded slowly.
Not because Dean had stopped being funny.
Because Dean was right.
