Emily
Two days later, I was at the summit lodge to represent Titanfang’s proposed trade reforms, but I knew the real reason they sent me.
I was Logan’s shadow—polished up, smiling, and nonthreatening. Enough of a novelty to draw attention, not enough of a threat to start a war.
The panels had finished for the afternoon, and the crowd thinned as delegates scattered into side rooms and hallways to negotiate, charm, and scheme in quieter corners. I slipped out a side door into the courtyard, needing air more than I needed kiss some delegate’s ass.
It was quieter here—stone pathways winding through frost-kissed gardens, a small fountain trickling in the center. I let my shoulders drop as I leaned against the railing, letting the wind cool my overheated skin.
“Still hate crowds, I see.”
