"And you," Chris said, gesturing vaguely, "are from Draxil."
"I am Prince Eryx of Draxil," the boy announced, clearly delighted to be saying it in a room where it mattered. "Third in line, but the most charming."
One of his guards looked like he wanted to faint in apology.
Chris's brain dredged up the relevant file without his permission: Draxil, distant and sharp-edged, a court that collected rare things the way other kingdoms collected allies. The same people who had sent them Tania, the tiger, as a "gift," which had been Draxil's idea of friendly diplomacy and Saha's idea of why are you like this.
Eryx's gaze dipped briefly to Chris's collar, fascination flashing across his face. "That's the private one, right?"
Chris narrowed his eyes slightly. "How do you know that?"
Eryx shrugged. "Everyone knows. You're famous."
Chris stared at Dax, a silent accusation.
