“That is not an answer.”
“It is as good of an answer as I will give you.” He looked right at her; an eyebrow raised in dismissal. “Just because you ask me questions, does not mean I will answer them.”
She sighed. “So, I was right then. You are not serious about this.”
“I am,” he said. “Or as serious as I need to be. Remember, you are the one who wants this, not me. Ask your questions, I will answer them how I wish, and from that it will be on you to ascertain what you think of me.”
“It will be awfully hard to get to know you better if you do not answer my questions.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps that is something to take note of. How much I hate answering personal questions. Look at us, learning so much about one another already.”
Thalia narrowed her eyes. “Fine, if that is how you wish to behave…” She pushed her tongue into the side of her cheek as another question came to mind. “Tell me of your childhood – no, actually, tell me of your earliest memory.”
Again, a shadow passed behind his eyes, and his brows drew together a fraction. “I don’t think so.”
She sighed loudly. “I see what you are doing.”
“And what am I doing?”
“You are hoping that if you deny me for long enough, I will grow frustrated, and give in. As if I might change my mind because you are so… so…”
“So what?”
“Stubborn,” she said with venom. “Stubborn and selfish.”
“Is that how you see me?”
“You are not giving me much else to work with,” she responded sharply.
Caspian tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. She always felt uncomfortable when he looked at her as he was doing, as if he was seeing right through her.
She fidgeted, feeling suddenly exposed.
“And what of you?” he asked finally.
“Wh -- what do you mean?” she stammered.
“This goes both ways, does it not? If you are to ask me questions, why can I not ask them of you? After all, how will I get to know you better, if I do not know anything about you?”
“You…” She blinked in surprise. “You want to get to know me?”
“Should I not?”
“No!” she said a little too loudly. “I mean… I mean, yes. Yes, please, ask me anything.” A flicker of excitement rippled through her body, the sense that she was starting to make headway.
“Why have you not married yet?” he asked her.
“I did not want to,” she said. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she sighed. “My parents were the reason. Their marriage was loveless… although that feels like a rather nice way of describing it. My mother was unhappy, and lonely, and I saw what being trapped in a marriage as hers was could do to a person. So, rather than being forced into the same situation, I chose not to be.”
She saw the Duke frown at the comment, and she wondered if he noticed the parallel which now existed in her life. And she wondered if he even cared…
“Your mother,” he said. “What happened to her?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I answered your question, now you answer one of mine…” She looked at him pointedly and he sighed, indicating with a nod for her to ask. “What of your mother?”
“What of her?”
“What was she like? Were you close?”
