Osmund pulled Finn to his feet, but his eyes never left Finn's face. There was something burning in that gaze. A curiosity so intense it bordered on desperate.
Finn could practically see the questions at the tip of Osmund's tongue. The way the short man's jaw clenched and unclenched like he was physically restraining words from spilling out. His fingers drummed once against his thigh before he caught himself and stopped.
He wants to ask what my spell was so badly, but the contract won't let him… Finn realized with a flicker of satisfaction.
The terms had been specific: Finn's fragment nature and abilities remained confidential unless Finn chose to reveal them. Osmund couldn't explicitly demand information, couldn't interrogate, and couldn't even fish for hints without Finn's permission.
And watching the Greater Fragment bearer struggle with that restriction was... gratifying.
A smug smile tugged at Finn's lips despite the ache in his shoulder where Osmund had pinned him.
