Breathing out slowly, he steps toward the door and reaches for the knob when it turns against his hand.
Whistling wind. Thank the fates Arisanna’s mother didn’t barge in a few minutes ago.
“Oh.” The queen startles at his presence. “Good afternoon, Cerian. I was expecting Arisanna, though I suppose this is your room, too.”
His brows feel awkward as he tries to arrange them in a friendly way, but it all seems wrong. It’s not as if he thinks about it when he scowls at people. It just sort of happens.
What does a non-glare feel like? He must look ridiculous, adjusting his face into what probably looks nothing like Arisanna had in mind.
The queen’s own brows quirk as she looks at Cerian’s forehead, but she says nothing.
“Is Arisanna here?” Queen Yalisa asks, and Cerian nods.
Words. He should use words.
“Yes.”
That was undoubtedly unhelpful, but his tongue feels thick in his mouth, and he doesn’t attempt to speak again.
“I don’t see her.”
He pushes his tongue to cooperate. “She’s...”
Can he tell Arisanna’s mother she’s getting dressed?
That would imply she was previously not dressed. Would Arisanna wish for him to share that?
“She’s in the water closet,” he eventually manages.
Vague horror slips across the queen’s face. “We don’t usually discuss such things in Nunia.”
He frowns. They don’t talk about water closets?
Whistling wind, he’s scowling. He forces his brows up, but that just feels ridiculous.
“Are you well, Cerian?” the queen asks as she eyes his forehead again. “Aside from dear Elowyn being sick. Are you close to your sister?”
A lump forms in his throat, and he nods.
“May I come in?” the queen asks. “Humans don’t usually converse while congregating in corridors.”
He didn’t invite her in. He should have done that.
Without speaking, he steps aside and gestures to the room behind him. Hopefully, Arisanna will finish soon. Thoughts of her in that towel warm him, but he pushes them away.
“I think there may be something wrong with your flue,” her mother says as she wanders toward the hearth.
His what?
“It smells like smoke,” she continues. “It’s stronger than it was when I was in here before. You should have the front desk send someone to examine it. All this smoke can’t be healthy.”
She pushes open the window, and he longs to crawl through it and disappear from this encounter.
He’s certainly not planning to tell the queen Arisanna lights him on fire. Especially when Arisanna stands there with glistening wet skin and hair as water drips along her gorgeous legs and...
That’s not helpful.
Her mother has awful timing.
