She might yet have an actual emergency, after all.
Theira restrained a groan at the effort to haul open her impressive but heavy door, kicking her boots off in the empty entryway. No Varius to greet her this time, and she was annoyed at the prick of disappointment she felt.
What did she expect, he would stand in the entryway and wait for her like a dog? That having welcomed her home after a battle once, he’d be there for her every time? Just because he was rock-solid didn’t mean she should depend on him.
Theira scowled at herself as she made her way to the kitchen, trying to summon anger rather than obscure disappointment. She wouldn’t be sad about her life—impossibly free, despite every odd!—if she could stop hoping for unreasonable things.
And then she saw Varius standing in her kitchen.
“Oh good, you’re back.” He turned and smiled at her.
Theira’s heart stopped.
The most dangerous general she’d ever faced was standing in her kitchen, stirring a pot, wearing an apron.Herapron.
It was absolutely unfair for him to look so sexy wearing an apron.
She knew it was the incongruity. She did. It still took an effort of will to summon her jaw back up from the floor
“I hope you don’t mind, I let myself into your pantry,” Varius said casually, turning back away from her like there was nothing remotely remarkable about this situation. Was this how he’d felt when she made him tea? “It looked like everything was organized to avoid poisoning by accident, but you may want to make sure. I’m not experiencing any numbness or trouble breathing though.”
He would know the signs of her usual efforts in that direction, Theira thought with surreal detachment.
As he carried out a tray with a bowl of hot soup and half a loaf of bread.
“You must be starving after all that,” Varius said. “Sit down and eat. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Theira stared at him.
He stared back.
Then he smiled, joy spilling into his eyes, and as her heart jolted back to life Varius set the tray on the table, returned behind her, and took her by the shoulders.
She snapped to attention.
He gently pushed her into a chair.
Theira technicallycouldmelt into the floor, and she gave the notion some serious consideration.
But then she’d only have to face him later withmoreembarrassment and less food.
“No accidental poison?” Varius prompted.
Theira checked, shook her head.
He let out a breath. “Good. Some welcome home that would be, if I spent all morning wasting your defenses on inedible soup. I’ll be right back.”
He vanished back to the kitchen, and Theira shoved a bite of soup in her mouth in hopes it would prevent her from turning to stare at him.
It didn’t.
Varius was cleaning up after himself, and she tracked him as he crossed to the entryway with a towel and one of her cleaning potions. How had he identified it? Had he tested every likely bottle until he found one that suited his need?
Goddess, probably. He was smart and thorough, and after surviving years of her tricks he knew her better than anyone.
Theira heard two soft thumps from the entryway, and belatedly she realized what he was doing.
Moving her muddy boots to the tray. Cleaning up afterher.
