It was either cold distance or thawing friendship.
Not both.
Whisper shadowed me as I left Lucien’s quarters and made my way down the labyrinth of corridors. Arriving at the octagon-shaped foyer, I hugged the wine jar, ridiculously excited at the thought of a heavenly afternoon doing nothing—
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I squeaked and spun around.
The wine slipped from my arms.
It fell—
In a streak of black, Lucien darted forward and caught the cherry-blossom alcohol before it smashed to the marble floor.
Straightening, he glowered at me. “Stealing?”
I backed up a little. “I thought you were hiding from me.”
“And you thought you’d leave? Without my permission?”
“I’m tired.”
“So?”
“I’m not feeling very well.”
“And I am?”
I scowled. “This isn’t a competition.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Backing up, he smirked coldly. “You work for me, and you can only go when Isayyou can go.”
The urge to stomp my feet or sit down in protest made my head throb. “I’ve been working for weeks in a row. I deserve a day off.”
“Deserve?” His eyes narrowed. “That’s a strong word.”
Heat flared in my chest.
Was he deliberately being nasty again after the moment we’d shared last night?
Because if he was...ugh.
I didn’t have the capacity to suffer whiplash from my feelings. My headache would happily turn into a migraine and all these little moments where he left me wondering and questioning would only compound until I suffered a blackout.
Crossing my arms, my voice came out as cold as his, “I’ve cleaned your crypt of a palace until my fingers are raw. I’ve done every ridiculous chore you’ve thrown at me. I’ve even dusted your bookshelves multiple times—which, by the way, didnotneed dusting.”
His mouth curved into a mocking smile. “And in return, I’ve kept you alive and safe in my company. A fair trade, don’t you think?”
“I’d prefer a few daysawayfrom your company,” I muttered.
He stepped toward me, the wine cradled carelessly in one hand, his tall height casting me in shadow. Whisper pressed against my leg with a low rumble as if sensing the crackling chemistry flying between me and his master. “Are you saying you don’t like being around me or are you suddenly bored of living?”
I lifted my chin. “How can I like you when you refuse to open up to me? We had a moment last night, but you—”
“Ah.” He nodded, his eyes sharp and cutting. “So youaresick of living.”
I gave up.
