The server seats us in the back corner and says we can hit the salad bar right away. We take chilled plates over and fill them with veggies. Nora lifts a brow when I put carrots on top, but she doesn’t say anything.
I add another scoop.
Then a third.
“You’re aware this is not helping the rabbit stereotype,” she says dryly.
I put the fourth scoop back into its container, hoping she doesn’t notice.
We eat in silence until the waiter delivers our drinks. More coffee for Nora and apple juice for me.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “You were right. I was getting hangry.”
“You’ve had a difficult couple of days,” I reply.
She huffs out a breath that might be a laugh, if it didn’t fade so fast.
Up close, I can see the shadows beneath her eyes. The way her shoulders slope forward, as though she is holding herself up by sheer will alone. She barely slept last night. Instead, she sat beside me while I healed. Watched me. Gave of herself when I asked, even knowing what it would cost.
I am not accustomed to being cared for.
Guarded, yes. Trained. Managed. Observed.
But not…this.
“Eat,” I say quietly.
She blinks at me.
“You need your strength.”
Something in her expression softens before she looks back down at her plate. “So we can raid magical eggs?”
“So we may return to the salad bar one more time.”
She smiles at that, her posture relaxing.
She pays the bill, since I possess no human money, and we go upstairs to the room. It’s generic. White walls and a white bedspread. A bedside clock that glows red.
Nora yawns and stretches with her arms up over her head. “Now what? It’s only three p.m.”
I pull back the sheets and pat the bed. “Now you sleep. Nap. We can’t get near the egg today, so we rest and gather our strength.”
She looks to the bed, then to me. “What’re you going to do?”
I point to a chair in the corner of the room. “I’ll sit over there. If I nod off, I’ll be fine. I can sleep sitting up.”
She hesitates, then glances down at the sheets, up at the headboard.
“You remained awake last night so that I might heal,” I add. “You should not have to do so again.”
Something in her expression shifts. “It’s okay. You can use the bed too. We’ll just each stay on our side. Okay?”
I raise my hands. “No. You sleep. I’ll keep watch. It’s my job.”
Her hand swings forward, one finger pointed straight at me. She scowls, clearly attempting intimidation.
It’s…kind of adorable. Endearing. I stifle my smile, knowing it will only aggravate her.
