"One more thing," Asher said, turning from Ronan. He pulled a small vial from his pocket, dipped his finger in it, then rubbed it on his front teeth.
He turned to face Ronan and gave a wicked grin. "It's convincing, right?"
Three of his front teeth were black. Completely, aggressively black, painted with what appeared to be ink, giving him the grin of a man who had lost a bar fight and most of his dental structure.
"That's disgusting," Ronan said flatly.
"Exactly. She takes one look at this smile and she's back on her ship before the first course."
"If this goes the way I think it will, I am going to tell this story for the rest of my life. At banquets. To your children. On your deathbed. I will never let you forget this day."
"That's the spirit," Asher clapped him on the back, then straightened. "If all else fails, I paid a serving girl to burst in during the second course holding a baby. She's going to slap me across the face."
Ronan closed his eyes. "Is there a baby?"
