“No food again tonight?” she asked curiously.
He drank deeply from his goblet, and smirked.
She picked up her fork and hesitated.
“It’s not rude to eat first,” he said, nodding at the food. “Eat.”
He watched her spear a piece of potato on her fork and place it in her mouth, chewing it delicately. She glanced at Asmodeus’s seat, wondering where he had gone.
Evidently, Caspian noticed. “Asmodeus is learning what happens when he attempts to tamper with my belongings.”
“Am I your belonging?” Displeasure coloured her tone.
“You are mine, and mine alone to toy with while you are here. So yes, during our little agreement, you are my belonging.” His words were firm, as if he expected no argument.
“I see,” she said stiffly, trying to mask her annoyance that a man—if he wasn’t mortal, did that mean she called him a male?—she had just met was calling her his belonging. “Are you always this possessive of your … contract partners?”
He leveled an intense gaze at her. “Always.”
When she finished her meal, Caspian asked the servant for another goblet of wine to retire with by the fire.
She raised her hand tentatively and asked for one as well, intending to join him.
He made an odd expression at the servant that she didn’t understand. The servant bowed, offering her a silver goblet. She accepted it and followed Caspian to the lounge.
He sipped his wine and looked out the window. It was raining, and the view of the mountains was marred by fog and the raindrops that sluiced down the windowpane.
She needed to prove to herself that she could be in the same room as him. Even if there was no prize but her own pride.
Otherwise, she might as well go home and ready her wedding dress if she couldn’t stand to be near him. She focused on her breathing to get used to the unnerving presence of the castle’s master. She waited for him to say something, and when he didn’t, she sat in silence until her pounding heart calmed, and her thoughts began to drift.
Suddenly, he asked, “What are you thinking about so intently?”
Elizabeth turned to him and smiled brightly. “I had thought Arboras was covered in snow and ice year-round. It is surprisingly mild outside. I didn’t even need a cloak today.”
Caspian gave her a skeptical look. “Is thatreallywhat you were thinking so hard about?”
“Yes,” she insisted, “I don’t have a winter cloak though. I’ll have to get one before winter comes.”
“I see.” Caspian’s eyes found hers, some questions buried in them. “And what will you do with your time while you are here? Perhaps I can be persuaded to show you around the castle.” His words were smooth as velvet.
“One of your servants was kind enough to show me around already, thank you.”
“You do not wish for my company as you explore?” he asked, frowning.
She hesitated, feeling like she had missed something important. “You would be welcomed to join me, of course, if you wanted to. Don’t worry about me though. I will amuse myself just fine. I brought plenty of things to occupy myself with.”
She wondered why he still looked displeased.
“I appreciate the foresight,” Caspian said, his words clipped.
Unsure of what to say, Elizabeth sat tall, smiling.
His gaze slid down her frame. “Perhaps it is time for you to go to bed,” he said softly, his lip curling.
She rose, needing no further encouragement. “Certainly, Caspian,” she said, her voice honey-sweet. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”
As she turned to leave, she saw the way their goblets looked on the table and stopped dead. The contents of his goblet looked different from hers. While her wine was a translucent burgundy, his wine was a lighter shade—the colour more vibrant, the liquid opaque and viscous.
