His body tensed, and although he didn’t say it, I couldn’t help but think that he just described me, and he no doubt wasthinking the same thing. I had played with his emotions, and my own for that matter, and I’d never forgive myself for it.
I’d give anything to have my friendship with him return to how it was before all of that. I was beginning to wonder if it even could. You couldn’t erase history, or unrequited love—no matter how hard you tried to ignore its truth.
“I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that there was areasonfor you ending things with her last fall?”
He lowered his voice even further. “Not that it’s any of your business, but last night was a one-time thing, which I madeveryclear to her.”
My lips stuck together. He was right. Itwasn’tany of my concern. Not really. Although I felt partly to blame for him using her as anoutlet. Using her body to getmeout of his head—the same thing I had done to him when I couldn’t get Sebastian out of mine.
“Sorry. You’re right. Not my business.” I tossed my arms up in surrender and spun on my heel. “See you later.”
He called after me, his body halfway through the door. “I’ll be at the dining room in five minutes, give or take.”
My smile split open to speak, only to reseal when a beige-skinned man slipped by Sawyer and out of the room.
My eyes bulged.
The corner of Sawyer’s lip curved up and he shrugged. “All the talk about three ways got me thinking.”
After stopping by my room to grab some shoes, I made for the dining hall, ignoring the looks of passersby as I sauntered through the halls. Their gazes were settled blatantly on my gemstones and markings while they muttered to themselves.
I was used to being ogled at by now, but I’d be lying if I said that the negative attention didn’t stir me up inside. It always brought me back to my first gala in Caelestis when King Hawthorne totally blindsided me with his announcement of mygift. The memory of how I felt in that moment still made my stomach churn.
The smell of fresh pastries and eggs filled my nostrils. Taking a sharp corner at the end of the hall, I stepped into the dining room, my smile instantly fading when my gaze settled on Samara drinking a cup of tea at the head of the table.
Immediately after making eye contact, I backed out of the entryway. “I’ll come back later,” I muttered in annoyance under my breath.
“Oh, relax,” Samara drawled, making me stop in my tracks. “Stay. I don’t bite.”
“Doubtful,” I mumbled, but my body reluctantly turned towards her.
“You’re up late today,” she pointed out, her eyes raising to the clock. “Or early. I don't know. I have yet to see you at breakfast, and I always come at this time.”
“Early.” Marching to the table, I took a seat as far from her as possible then reached into the pastry basket in the center, pulling a muffin free.
Her eyes didn’t stray from me. I could detect them tracking my every move. Studying me.
Once settled into my chair, I took a bite of my pastry and practically moaned at the taste of it. I hadn’t had a muffin this good since…
Since my mother made them.
My brief moment of grief was interrupted by an utterly grating noise.
“Carbs so early in the day?”
Taking a big bite, I answered with my mouthful. “Yup. Extra early for me, too. Remember?” A few crumbs dribbled from my mouth with my cutting remark. “Gonna wash it down with some fresh, sugary juice, as well. I’m going to need the energy.”
She scoffed through a steaming sip of her drink. She had not even a morsel of food in front of her, only the dainty cup with a teabag dripping over the edge. “For what? Sebastian is not here.”
Though my jaw clamped shut almost tight enough to break, I did manage to hold back the snarky comment that popped into my mind. “Fortraining,” I clarified.
With the tip of her finger, she brushed a strand of silky, black hair behind her ear, unintentionally flaunting a colossal, sparkling earring. “Ah. You still need to train daily? That’s cute. I can go weeks now without holding a weapon and still be as sharp as a knife when I pick one back up.” She took another sip of her tea, leaving red lipstick on the rim. “Don’t worry. You’ll get there too, someday. Probably.”
My eyes begged to roll back in their sockets, but I held them still. My mouth, on the other hand, decided it was time to go off.
“Wow, Samara. That's impressive. Do you have the same skill when it comes to manners, or is that subject a bit more difficult for you?”
Samara set a poorly-hidden scowl upon my own amused expression. Setting her cup down properly, she leaned forward over the table on her elbows. “You’re funny, Maeve. No wonder Sebby likes you. Seeing as you aren't exactly his type.”
