““Rolfe blinked—just once, then straightened. “Get out of my seat. And put back that emerald you slipped up your sleeve.” Aelin snorted, and with a flash of her fingers, an emerald—the fourth one Dorian had forgotten—appeared between her fingers. “Good. At least your eyesight isn’t failing in your old age.” “And the other one,” Rolfe said through clenched teeth. Aelin grinned again. And then leaned back in Rolfe’s chair, tipped up her head, and spat out an emerald she’d somehow kept hidden under her tongue. Dorian watched the gem arc neatly through the air. Its plunk in the dish was the only sound. Dorian glanced at Rowan. But delight shone in the prince’s eyes—delight and pride and simmering lust. Dorian quickly looked away.””
