Merlin held her stare, though his fingers curled into the fabric of his coat.
"I can handle it."
Morgana's lips curved, too slight to be a smile, too sharp to be anything but dangerous.
"You think you can handle it."
"I know," he said. The words came out faster than he'd intended.
She circled the desk slowly, the steady click of her heels stretching the space between them. "You're not asking me for permission, Merlin. You're asking me for trust."
Her perfume lingered in the air as she stopped beside him. "And trust… is expensive."
'She's baiting me.'
But the problem was, she was right.
"If that thing stabilizes," he said, "we both know it won't stay contained. Not with a Tier-Gate. And if the wrong kind of creature comes through—"
"I've read the reports."
"Then you know—"
"I know," she cut in, voice sharp enough to halt him. "And I also know you're not cleared for active combat in that quadrant."
Merlin met her eyes. "I'm not asking for clearance. I'm going anyway."
