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Chapter 89: The Blue-eyed Guy...
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... length of the palace corridor.
Jasper, leaning lazily against a marble pillar, twirled a silver coin between his fingers. "Well, if by ’luck,’ your Highness, you mean blisters on my feet and a newfound hatred for dusty corners, then yes—tons of luck."
Damian shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Not funny."
Jasper coughed, sliding the coin back into his pocket with a sheepish grin. "Right. I’ll just... keep my mouth shut then."
The tension between them was ...
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