Caiman strolledinto the dining room deep in discussion with Lord Devon. When he saw me waiting for him at the head of the table, his footsteps faltered. The heat in his gaze as his dark eyes swept from my braided hair to the V in my dress left my own legs weak. Thankfully, the full chiffon skirt kept their quaking hidden from those around us.
He muttered something to Lord Devon and quickly crossed to where I stood. When I smiled, he frowned. I didn’t want him to frown. I wanted him to return my smile. He caught my hand and towed me out the door, past a confused Broderick, and into one of the deep bay windows lining the breezeway.
The moment we were out of view, he let me go to tug the heavy velvet drapes closed. Lamps flickered outside in the courtyard, fighting against the falling darkness.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, on the verge of tears. I had tried so hard to look well for him, and he looked as if he wanted to fight someone.
Sinking onto the wide windowsill, Caiman dropped his head into his hands. “I cannot be in a room full of people with you looking like that.”
I pressed a hand to my queasy stomach, glancing down at the shimmering material. “You don’t like my dress?”
“Don’t like it? You look like . . .” His cheeks flushed. “You look like the faerie from the painting.”
That’s why I had chosen this dress. I may not have known his favorite color, but I knew his favorite painting. And I’d asked Falin to braid flowers into my hair just like the girl Caiman had hoped I’d be.
“Is that bad?”
“Not at all. It’s just . . . How am I supposed to hold a coherent conversation with anyone else when all I want to do is stare at you?”
His confession brought a blush to my own cheeks, and a nervous giggle escaped my lips. “Are we to miss dinner then?”
His brow furrowed as he considered my question with comical intensity. And then my blasted stomach moaned, ruining the moment and sending him shooting to his feet. He held up both hands as if I were a cornered animal about to bolt. “Don’t . . . don’t go anywhere. Please.”
And then he was gone. I paced back and forth, my hands wringing my skirt and my stomach a jumble of nerves and my shoes pinching my feet. I slipped them off, hiding them in the folds of the long drapes and sighing as the cold marble soothed my soles and my soul.
A curse erupted from outside the curtains. I drew them aside, peering through the gap. Caiman lugged one of the chairs from the library while Broderick and another guard heaved a small wooden table into the alcove. A third guard appeared from around the corner carrying another chair.The men set the furniture in the alcove and drew the curtains closed, leaving us in a world of our own. Caiman pulled out a chair, waiting behind until I sat before taking his own seat.
What was I supposed to do with my hands? Folding them on top of the table made this feel like a meeting, and hiding them beneath my thighs revealed my nervousness. Caiman’s back remained straight as he drummed his fingers against the pitted tabletop and stared at me with his unnerving eyes.
As much as I wanted to know how he was faring in light of his father’s passing, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. He’d lost so much these past few weeks, the last thing he needed was to be reminded. Tonight, I wanted him to think of something else.
I wanted him to think of me.
A moment later, a footman pushed through the curtains with a silver tray, which he left on a small stand. Beneath the tray’s lid were two steaming plates of food that instantly made my mouth water. One plate had roasted potatoes dripping with butter and flecked with parsley, a mountain of carrot spears glazed with honey, and a fresh spinach salad drizzled with oil and vinegar. The second plate was identical to the first except for a few thin slices of turkey topped with lumps of deep red cranberry sauce.
Caiman set the one without the turkey in front of me and took the other for himself.
“You didn’t give me any meat,” I remarked, handing him a set of cutlery and a glass of wine from the tray.
He glared down at his plate, a frown tugging at his lips. “I didn’t think you ate meat.”
Despite living in the castle for months, the serving staff still gave me meat with every meal. I had believed no one noticed that Lowri, my mother, and I never touched the stuff.
“I don’t. I just wasn’t aware you knew that about the fae.”
“I already told you that I did research.”
“How much research exactly?”
Caiman set his cutlery aside in favor of his glass of wine. When he took a sip, his mouth pinched. “An embarrassing amount.”
“And did you find answers to all your questions?”
He choked on his drink, spilling wine down the front of his white shirt. Cursing, he dragged a serviette from the tray and dabbed at the stain, his color rising.
I leaned heavily against the arm of my chair, interested in the way he avoided my gaze. “Will I take that as a no?”
His eyes flicked to me before returning to the stain. “I was curious as a boy.” The tips of his rounded ears turned deep red. “I had a lot of questions.”