Larksong Grotto make ten men feel like one hundred

Daniel had been recognized for his cunning and, though this was unacknowledged, his ruthlessness. He was not a man of exceptional patience, and as she spoke irritation flashed in his chest, striking up his throat. The Inquistor quelled it before thoughts became words or actions. Instead he listened, not quite beatific, but feigning a troubled expression all the same. I am sorry to have made you feel so threatened, Jhala, he said, cajoling. He took a careful step forward, slipping into something almost resembling submission. He took her in; her dilated pupils, her wild beauty, her braced legs. Jhala, are you afraid of me? The thought was pleasing. Fear meant control. Fear meant power.