Sylvia had fully decided to commit a crime.
Dean stepped in front of her before she could even finish the thought.
He stepped half a pace forward, subtly placing himself between Sylvia and the aide.
Sylvia's hand twitched with violence and retribution.
Dean didn't look at her. He kept his gaze on the aide, expression calm.
"Where," Dean asked.
The aide's posture remained perfect. "The east gallery receiving room, Your Highness."
Sylvia's eyes narrowed.
The east gallery meant quieter corridors. Fewer witnesses. More security. Less chance of someone accidentally overhearing anything interesting.
Which meant it was either going to be very private…
…or very bad.
Dean nodded once, like this was something perfectly normal.
"I'll come," he said.
Sylvia made a small sound of disbelief.
Dean finally turned his head slightly, just enough for Sylvia to catch the edge of his profile and the brightness in his purple eyes.
