Luna didn't notice the thoughtful expression on Luca's face at all.
She was too busy patting him down, her hands moving urgently across his chest, his sides, his pockets.
"Where is it? Where could the gun be?"
She mumbled to herself, completely focused on her search.
"Oh! I totally forgot—it must be in that bag grandmother gave you!"
Her eyes lit up with excitement.
"I'll go get it right now!"
She started to rise, already turning toward where the bag sat in the corner, moving with the eager confidence of a child on Christmas morning racing toward presents.
But before she could take a single step, Luca's arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back down onto his lap.
"Hold on there, you little elvish assassin. You're not going anywhere."
Luna looked back at him in surprise, her brow furrowing.
"But why, Luca? This is the perfect time! My father is probably sleeping right now—if I sneak in while he's unconscious, I could shoot him and be done with it."
