“Do I look perfect enough to be seen with you, my prince?” Zeda asked Vyr sarcastically when she was done dressing and ready to leave.

Vyr, leaning against the wall across the hall with his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands in his pocket, took in her outfit with slow, assessing eyes.

She was wearing a cropped red leather jacket over a black silk camisole and high-waisted black tailored trousers.

“You shouldn’t be following me in such cheap clothes, but then I’ll manage ...