Chapter 115: Predator’s Game
Trevor watched the screen in silence for a beat longer, jaw tight, every movement too controlled to be calm. Then he turned to Dax.
"Move our quarters today," he said, his voice low and absolute. "But in silence. No announcement. No change in security pattern. Keep the actual ones like we’re still living there."
Dax arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering behind his usual deadpan. "Comfortable, aren’t you? Giving me orders now?"
Trevor didn’t flinch. "You said I was your favorite disaster."
Dax snorted. "You’re not my favorite anything, Fitzgeralt. But I do enjoy the chaos."
He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, eyes sharp now. "There aren’t many places I can move you without stirring gossip. The Sahan court is a nest of jackals in silk, and at least three nobles are obsessed with watching your every door open."
"Then make it so only the rotation Luna is on doesn’t know we’ve moved," Trevor said, eyes hard. "We’re in Saha for a few more days. If he notices the change, fine. There’s nothing he can do now. But once we’re back in the North—he won’t get anywhere near Lucas."
Dax regarded him for a moment, the shift in mood caught between fond exasperation and grim calculation.
"Protective," he said. "Noted."
"Obsessively," Trevor corrected, unapologetic. "I have every right to be."
Dax clicked his tongue. "True."
He opened a new tab on his tablet, fingers moving with the sharp precision of someone used to making kings nervous. A few swipes, and the palace floorplan rotated into view—color-coded and guarded with access locks that only someone like Dax would dare override mid-conversation.