Chapter 133: Closer
>>Aelin
The food smelled better than I remembered. Or maybe that was just because of how nervous I was.
I sat across from Draegon at the small round guest table near the window, steam curling from the bowl of spiced stew in front of me. The golden glow of the lanterns cast soft shadows on the walls, flickering gently as if the room itself was holding its breath.
He hadn’t spoken much after we sat down—just a polite thank you to the maid, and a murmur of gratitude when I handed him his spoon.
Now he sat across from me, his dark hair falling slightly into his eyes as he looked at his steak once before lifting the meat stabbed fork to his lips. I caught the subtle sigh he gave after the first bite, almost inaudible, but real.
"You like it?" I asked before I could overthink it. My voice was small, unsure.
He looked up. His eyes met mine—warm and unwavering. "I do. Very much."
I smiled, quietly triumphant, and took a small bite of my own food. It was good. The flavors were comforting, warm. Familiar. But still, there was that silence between us again—pleasant, not tense, but I wanted to fill it. I wanted to talk to him. I just didn’t know how to start.
My spoon hovered in my bowl as I tried to think of something.
Anything.
"So..." I began, then immediately cursed myself for sounding awkward. Draegon didn’t flinch. He just looked up again with quiet interest. "You... um. You always work this late?" I asked such a stupid question.
I know he works late! Who would know better than me?