Oliver had to suppress a shudder. To hear Blackthorn, of all people, call him that – it was a sensation like the tickle of a cold wind on the back of his neck. He wondered how long it would take to get used to.
"Very well," Oliver said. "Then I accept. It seems I've acquired another thing that I am unworthy of."
"If there is a problem, my Lord, then I shall do my utmost to solve it," Lasha said, standing, and sheathing her blade.
Oliver eyed her. He wondered if she knew what she was doing. It was hard to tell, behind that mask of hers, when she was being teasing.
"Is something the matter, my Lord?" Lasha said, tilting her head.
"You're enjoying that title, aren't you?" Oliver said. "Am I being made fun of? Did you cross your fingers whilst you swore, or something?"
