He subsided, though I could see him mentally filing away every observation for future interrogation.
Charles Leone was the last to arrive, because of course he was. The blonde prince of Obsidian House pulled himself onto the ridge with movements that were technically perfect and absolutely devoid of the exhaustion that showed on everyone else's faces. His tactical suit was torn and bloodied, but his hair somehow maintained its artful arrangement, and his blue eyes held the same superiority they'd carried since the moment we entered the gate.
He didn't say anything to me. He barely looked at me. His attention went straight to Blair.
"Davenport. Status?"
"Operational." Blair's voice shifted when she talked to Charles, becoming the cold, distant thing she wore at the academy. "Second-degree burns along the left side. Leg wound. Mana depleted. Nothing critical."
"The core?"
"Destroyed. Monroe and I—"
"You destroyed it together?"
