“If you were to name a sword, what would you call it?'

Gwyn answered, thought she hadn't been asked, 'Silver Majesty.'

Emerie snorted, 'Really?'

Gwyn demanded, 'What would you call it?'

Emerie considered. 'Foe Slayer, or something. Something intimidating.'

'That's no better!'

Nesta's mouth tugged upward at their teasing. Gwyn looked to her, teal eyes bright. 'Which one is worse: Foe Slayer or Silver Majesty?'

'Silver Majesty,' Nesta said, and Emerie crowed with triumph. Gwyn waved a hand, booing.

'What would you call it?' Cassian asked Nesta again.

'Why do you want to know?'

'Humour me.'

She lifted a brow. But then said with all sincerity. 'Killer.'

His brows flattened.

Nesta shrugged. 'I don't know. Is it necessary to name a sword?'

'Just tell me: If you had to name a sword, what would you call it?'

'Are you getting her one as a Winter Solstice present?' Emerie asked.

'No.'

Nesta hid her smile. She loved this- when the three of them ganged up on him, like lionesses around a very muscled, very attractive carcass.

'Then why keep asking?' Gwyn said.

Cassian scowled, 'Curiosity.'

But his jaw tightened. It wasn't that. There was something else. Why would he want her to name a sword?”