// @dissolvedshadows sent, “ what is she to you anyway ? ”
He stills, body rigid, poised for an action he has not yet resolved upon. How easy it would be, as he would with most, to lash out. A neck snapped, a heart torn from between ribs, a thousand and one ways to kill swiftly and in doing so avoid so much hassle. His expression contorts, safely concealed from Caleb’s view, as he wrestles with his temper and reminds himself that he dare not. Not for fear of retribution, for fear of starting a war, for fear that killing one such as he may not actually be so easy — Klaus has yet to put it to the test. Yet for reasons yet obscured to him, Caleb matters to her. Lips curl in distaste at the thought.
When he turns to face Caleb, Klaus has his temper mastered, expression smooth and unconcerned, lip half-quirked in the merest hint of amusement. ❛ Nothing. Absolutely nothing. ❜ How easily, how calmly, lies fall from his lips. If anything, he relishes the words, the security they offer. ❛ Well, save an ally. One whose company aggravates me less than yours — not that that’s saying much. ❜ Perhaps ally is the wrong word, too formal for what is scarcely more than an understanding, save that that understanding helps preserve the balance, the peace, in the city. Yet in the moment he can find no other.
❛ But tell me, Caleb, ❜ — he speaks the name with a sneer, disdain weighty upon his tongue — ❛ what concern is it of yours? ❜












