Torin

A shadow fell over me. Yvara appeared above me, looking down with that same predatory smile.

"You aren't a very smart person, are you, Torin?" she asked. "How the hell did you get close to the King? Did you just flatter him until he got tired of listening to you?"

She sighed and came low. She grabbed me by the collar of my velvet doublet, her fingers twisting in the expensive fabric. She pulled me up effortlessly until I was sitting, my back against the wooden partition. She didn't even break a sweat.

"I already told you what Irina did," Yvara said, her voice dropping to a low, lethal hum. "Around here, black magic is strictly prohibited. Especially the kind of strong, filthy witchcraft your Queen was using."

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