Radeon looked down at Fay and listened past her face. Past the heat that clung to her like a clean flame.
He measured the rhythm in her chest, the cadence of her breath, the quiet weight of her soul brushing the room.
With what he could read, there was only sincerity. No hook. No hidden malice. No rehearsed plea.
This was what he had been waiting for.
He could have treated her as fodder for his physique. A convenient fortune rich body to be stripped and burned into strength.
Many would have. The thought came easy, then he put it away.
Radeon did not want her dead. He did not even want her merely useful in the crude way sects spoke of.
He wanted her living, close, and shaped to fit the space he had made in his plans. Radeon wanted more.
"You'll have to prove your worth. Sincerity won't cut it." He stared at Fay, smiling.
"Then what would you have this disciple do?" Fay asked, still kneeling.
"Strip. Now." Radeon demanded.
