Jael admitted.“I think you’re right.” Urien smiled as he gazed around the empty room. He stepped to the window and looked out. “The neighborhood appears much superior to the southern house we looked at.” He glanced upward. “But that gargoyle—”“Well, you could have it taken down,” Jael grinned.“It’s so hideous, I may just keep it there,” Urien said, smiling back. “That way, when I invite guests to the house, I can ask them how they like it and watch them squirm for an answer.”Jael chuckled at the image, wondering if Numan had perhaps had the same idea. Grandmother Celene was fond of just such tricks.“Are you ready for some dinner?” Urien suggested. “I hope this time we can dine on something more appealing than boiled greens.”“Today I can eat whatever I want,” Jael said. “And I could eat anything in Allanmere except boiled potherbs.”Urien took her to the Basilisk’s Eye, an almost decadently luxurious inn in the Noble District. Jael wondered if Urien knew that the small private supper alcoves were a notorious trysting place for nobles wanting to avoid public scrutiny of their liaisons.
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