“I think certain laws should have exceptions when the weather’s this nice,” Laurel responded. “Can they really blame us for wanting to take advantage of the heat wave?”
“Oh, brilliant, Ansari,” Arken laughed. “Have you considered going into politics? I think you might have a knack for sensible policy-making.”
“And I think you might have a knack for getting yourself into trouble, Little Conduit,” I purred as I made my overly-staged entrance.
It was an effort to keep a straight face as I caught Arken’s eye through the bars. The utter disbelief on her face was hilarious.
“Go ahead and release Miss Ansari, here, Andrea,” I ordered smoothly. “And escort her back to the Student’s Quarter.”
“Yes, sir. And the other?”
“Oh, I would like Miss Asher to remain for some additional questioning. I can take it from here, though. You can return to your scheduled post.”
Andrea shrugged, knowing better than to question a superior officer, and proceeded to unlock the cell and guide Laurel Ansari towards the exit. She handed the key off to me after closing the barred gate again, and once her back was turned, I couldn’t help but flash a smirk. Arken’s eyes narrowed.
I waited for a few moments, simply staring back at the little Conduit in silence until I was certain Andrea was out of earshot.
“Well, well, well,” I finally said, leaning up against the bars. “Somebody’s got a rebellious streak.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Arken groaned. There was that tongue again, wicked as ever.
“Additional questioning? Really, Vistarii?”
“CaptainVistarii,” I corrected. “And it’s just protocol. You are a criminal, after all. You could be dangerous for all I know.”
“If you don’t already know, I have to question whether or not you have the skills to support your title,sir,” Arken spat.
I had to disregard the way hearing that last part of the sentence made me feel if I had any hopes of remaining coherent.
“My, my, Miss Asher. A filthy mouth and sharp teeth? I do like that in a woman.”
“And would you like to know whatIwould like, Captain?” Arken asked. Her voice was excessively sweet and delightfully saccharine, tilting her head with wide eyes—false innocence. Oh, she wassoannoyed with me already.
“Absolutely, I would,” I replied with a grin.
In more ways than one.
“I would like to not be stuck in a holding cell for some arrogant bastard’s amusement. Pray tell, what sort of stupid questions do you need to ask me before I can return to my previously pleasant afternoon?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek in an effort to avoid laughing out loud.
“Give me a moment to think,” I mused, tapping my chin.
“A moment to think? About what, exactly?!”
“What sorts of stupid questions I should ask you, of course,” I replied.
“Are you serious right now?”
Goodgods, she was easy to rile up.
“What’s your favorite color?” I asked, pretending not to hear her.
“I don’t have one,” she groaned, tossing her head back against the limestone, eyes rolling toward the ceiling.
“Pick one.”
“I don’t know, black?”