“What is this?”
He comes over and looks in the bowl. “It’s emberroot.”
“Again, I repeat. Whatisit?”
He shrugs. “It’s good. Just eat it.” He takes a bowl and walks over to the small table that I just noticed. I frown and look back at the bowl. I stare at the glass bottle, deciding. “Just pour it over everything.”
“You didn’t.”
He shrugs. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, then why are you trying to get me to eat it?”
He finally lifts his eyes, and those dark eyes fall on me. “Because most people like it.”
“But you don’t,” I point out.
He shakes his head and turns back to his food. “Are you always this difficult?”
“Yep.” I make sure to pop thep. I stare at the bottle a moment longer and then finally cave. I figure it can’t hurt; I don’t knowwhat any of this is anyway. I mix everything together and then take a tentative bite. Flavor dances across my tongue, and I groan. “Mmmm, this is so good. I don’t know why I doubted her.” I pour more of the salty brothy goodness over everything in my bowl. I take another bite and close my eyes, savoring the bite.
“Do you always eat like that?” The man I’m doing my best to ignore asks. I don’t bother with a response. “Why don't you sit down when you—”
“You know what,” I say, turning to face him. “I’m really just trying to enjoy this meal. Do you know what would make it more enjoyable?” I don’t wait for him to answer. “Being able to eat it in peace.”
He stands up from the table and walks over to the door, disappearing a moment later. I stare after him and try to ignore thesmall flare of guilt in my chest. After I stand there for far too long in awkward silence, I wander over to the table and sit in one of the chairs. I take another bite of my meal, but it’s lost some of its flavor. I eat until I’m full and then push the bowl away and pull my leg up, hooking my arm around it to keep it in place. A sigh leaves my lips as I study the empty kitchen. An ache fills my chest, and I rub it subconsciously. I’m not sure what my problem is. I’ve lived in my apartment for a while, so it’s not like I’m not used to living by myself. But I just feel really lonely tonight. I shove my chair back and walk over to the sink and wash my dish before heading to my room for the night.I’m just tired; that’s all.
It’s not until I’m almost asleep that night in the comfiest bed I’ve ever slept on that I remember that I never asked Rauk what he needed me for today.
Chapter 8
The next morning, I wake up feeling much better. I get dressed and make my way to the kitchen. “Good morning, Elowen.”
Elowen turns towards me with a big smile on her face. “Good morning, Harper. How did you sleep?”
“Great. That bed is something else.”
“Good. Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
She smiles again. “Good.”
“Do you need help? I feel like it’s only fair for me to warn you that I’m terrible in the kitchen."
“Well, when you put it that way,” she starts with a smile.
“I mean I can do a few things.”
“I’m sure you’re not that bad in the kitchen, Harper. Did your mom not like to cook?”
Her question has me freezing up. I look down a moment as my heart squeezes in my chest, but then it’s over. “I don’t remember,” I tell her without looking at her. She doesn’t sayanything, and I push forward so it’s not an awkward moment. “So, tell me about the Dragon Kingdom.”
“Well, that’s quite a task first thing this morning,” she teases as she slides a plate of food my way.
“Thank you.” I take a bite and shake my head; her food really is the best. And that’s saying a lot because Hector’s an amazing cook. “Tell me what it’s like to have a spirit dragon. If you’re here, you must have one, right?”
She smiles. “Yes, I have a spirit dragon. Her name is Lumira.”
