"The bearkin foreman, Groth, he's been incredible. Organized his people into work crews in the first hour. Didn't even wait for instructions, just started building."
She paused. "I think he needs to build. I think if he stops moving, he'll start remembering."
Quinlan looked at her.
This woman. This girl, who could barely swing a sword, who had watched him leave for a trial that might have killed him and had chosen to stay behind and work instead of worry.
She understood people the way he understood battlefields.
"Quin?" Jasmine looked up at him. Her cheeks flushed faintly under his stare. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"No reason."
Jasmine narrowed her eyes. "You're thinking something sweet about me, aren't you?"
"I was calculating tax revenue."
"Liar! Tell me, I want to hear it!"
"No."
"Yes!"
"No."
"Hmph! Men and their useless masculinity! Why can't you just speak your heart?"
