Sierra was within a few feet of her room when she saw Drake standing at her bedroom door. The muted hallways, lit by wall fixtures made of iron, spelter, or red brass, cast delicate light on him. Excited with expectation, she approached him, wanting to rake her hand through his thick hair.

"Kyle did much better at dinner tonight," Sierra remarked, gently biting her lip. "I don't think I've ever seen him so well mannered. You seem to have a way with him."

Drake nodded along as she ...