Rambaldi couldn’t quite catch his breath. Everything in his head screamed danger, but something inside him was leaping. Longing for a thrill. He cleared his throat, eyes always on Sanshoku. “Of course not, Sanshoku. Would you be better pleased by the wording come upon?” Ember, he had to remember Ember, what was he doing? What was happening to him? “I meant, what is your purpose for being here? Have you come to join?” It had been a mistake to come here, Rambaldi’s head told him. He should have let somebody else, Pierce or Crimson or Queen Marella, accept Sanshoku. She was going to be his ruin if he wasn’t careful. Bloody women. Why were they always such a trial? Rambaldi’s throat tightened as the memory of the feel of Sanshoku’s tail ghosted below his chin.

“So tell me when you’re gonna let me in.”