Page 27 of The Silent Princess

“Eat, and I will be an open book, Ella.” I expect her to argue, but she takes the small fork and cuts into the strawberry cheesecake. Taking a bite, she then shuts her eyes as if it is that good. Somehow, the thought strikes me that perhaps she has not been around this sort of food for a while. That the hole in her bag is not the only evidence of neglect.

“I expected you to keep it,” I sign. “It is not every day that someone tries to go the honest way.”

“That is not an optimistic way to look at people.”

“I am a realist, Ella. Optimism is for dreamers.” I glance at the plate, grunting a not-so-low, “Eat.” She frowns but does not argue, taking another bite, which I enjoy watching more than I should.

“Now tell me. When did you last eat?”

“A few hours ago.”

“What was it?” I sign. Why am I so obsessed with her well-being? This is not my business. I should back off.

“Sir, I…” She shakes her head, her fingers signing fast. “I don’t understand. Why are you here with me?”

“I…” I pause and take a much-needed sip of coffee. Honestly, I do not even know, and I wish I could confess to her that it was more a question of vital need than sudden interest. Because you are a magnet, Ella, an impossible force trapping me in, and I need to know every corner of your mind. Every reason that got you smiling, every season that got you bleeding. Every piece of history that brought you to this table. I need to understand why you seem so tired and why you work at night even though you live in the richest part of town. I need to kiss your palms and watch you sleep. I need, I need⁠—

As if she can see my internal battle, my inability to understand myself, she signs again.

“A fruit at lunch. I didn’t have more time. It has been months since I came here to the city. My life is… It is what it is.” She gestures toward the table. “I can’t remember the last time I had homemade cheesecake. Six years old perhaps? My mom used to be a great baker.” She pauses. “So thank you, sir. It’s really kind of you.”

“Tristan.” An adorable frown appears, eyes wide with panic. She shakes her head, and I almost smile.

“Call me Tristan.”

“I can’t. It’s improper. Sir, I’m your… I’m your maid.”

“Not here.” She looks out the window, unsure, and I wish I could kiss her forehead and show her that I could not care less about her occupation, except for the sole fact that I wish she did not have to work that hard.

“Tris-tan,” she tries on her lips, and a kaleidoscope of images bursts through my mind. A volcano erupting. A wave crashing into the shore. A rocket launching. A bear striking. A fighter sending another into oblivion. Ella, what are you doing to me?

“Are you sure you want to be here?” she signs. “Sitting…with me?”

“Don’t do that,” I command out loud, my voice low enough to strike her right in the gut. “I am not the kind of man who can be forced into doing anything I do not want to do.” A silence stretches between us, louder than the familiar one we have shared before, and a minute passes with only eating and drinking between us. Except it is not awkward. It is not uncomfortable. Her company alone is enough, and she seems affected in the same way.

“What are you studying?” I ask. I know from Brenton’s report that, for whatever reason, she had to stop her second year of English Literature this year, but I ask anyway because I am not supposed to be aware of that information.

“I’m not studying at the moment, but if everything goes well, I’ll be back at it next year.”

“Why stop, then?”

She shrugs. “Priorities.”

“What could be more important than studying for your future?” She sighs, and I understand I have struck a nerve she would rather not share right now.

“What about you?” she signs. “Shouldn’t you be working instead of sitting here with me?”

“I needed air.”

“Why?”

“There are times when my office turns into a cage, and that is when I know I need to get out of it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m right where I want to be.” I glance around the café, then back at her. “Is it your first time here?”

She nods. “I rarely have time for myself, so yes.”