“He and Jonal, when the deed is ever done,” Anya replied in honesty.
“Do you have distaste, for the LightClan Prince?”
“No,” she asserted. “He’s magnificent, both gentle and kind. I’m in love with the galoot, and Jonal is…”
“Jonal is Jonal,” Flagen finished her sentence for her, although Anya wasn’t sure that his interpretation resembled hers. “Maybe I will taste this coffee of yours while you tend to your second helping.” Flagen’s face was preternatural. His meter had jumped from violation to free game score faster than light speed. He was volatile and it turned her shaky. It was time for a graceful and quick exit line. She looked around for a fast and dirty excuse and seized on…deliverance.
“Mark, over here. I’ve just met your…brother-in-law?” Anya reached for the right term.
“Flagen.” Mark said his name with such crack and sizzle that Anya had to check for steam with his spit. Mark had not wowed the in-laws.