The thought sent her blood thrumming.
The door creaking open nearly had her flying out of her skin.
Cassius took one look at her sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, and looked away. The muscle in his jaw flickered as he stiffly carried a tray of food he’d gone to fetch her over to the small dresser in the room.
“My other clothes were wet,” Thalia said defensively, unsure why he seemed so ill at ease.
Cassius closed the door behind him, toeing off his boots. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re acting weird.”
“Forgive me, Princess. I wasn’t expecting to find you naked and waiting for me.”
Prick.
“You wish,” Thalia crooned as Cassius went about taking off his clothes. He let out a curse when he realized his own extra clothes were soaked too.
He looked around, finding another blanket, his fingers clenching in the fabric. Thalia glanced at the tray of food, although the steam coming from whatever stew he’d brought was the least interesting thing in the room. Especially as the sound of his pants hitting the floor brushed her ears.
He moved into her eye line, his lower half wrapped in the blanket, and grabbed the tray. Thalia made room on the small bed as he set it between them. She inhaled the scent of what appeared to be two bowls of rabbit stew, along with two mugs of ale.
“It probably tastes like shit,” Cassius said.
Thalia didn’t care. She shoveled a spoonful in her mouth, letting the warmth drive out the chill from her bones.
Cassius watched her eat, his gaze intent on hers.
It was only after she’d almost finished the bowl that she realized he hadn’t touched his stew. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Cassius shrugged. “I fed earlier on the boat.”
Fed. Notate.
It was so easy to forget what he was. Especially in moments like this. When it was almost as if nothing had changed between them.
“I thought you still got hungry?”
“I do, but it usually takes at least a day before my stomach grumbles for actual food.”
Thalia set her spoon down with a clink. “Oh.”
“I got two”—Cassius nodded to the tray—“because I didn’t want the innkeeper to think anything suspicious. You can have it if you want.”
“It’s fine.” Thalia swallowed, the sound audible, and Cassius slid his gaze to hers. “What do we tell my mother when we get to Corithian?”
Cassius raised a brow. “Nothing.”
“Please, Cassius. She knows when I’m lying.”
“Then don’t lie.”
“You want me to tell her that the Vampyrs are facing a creature whose bite is fatal, the courts are on the brink of collapse, and their prince seems more inclined to disappear than deal with the actual problems at hand?”
Cassius’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, let me do the talking.”
“Right, because you’re so diplomatic.”
“I’m hand to the prince, remember?”
