Page 38 of Demon Daddy's Nanny

"Morning." My voice comes out steadier than I expect.

Ridwan's response is a curt nod, golden eyes never leaving his documents. The distance in his demeanor hits like a physical blow.

I slide into my usual seat, the chair scraping against the floors. A servant places a plate before me, but the smell of fresh bread turns my stomach.

"You're quiet this morning." Annalise's silver eyes narrow. "Both of you."

"Just tired." I reach for my tea, needing something to do with my hands.

"Indeed." Ridwan's deep voice carries none of last night's warmth. He stands, gathering his papers. "I have meetings. Annalise, don't skip your studies today."

He strides out, wings folded tight against his back. The door closes with a quiet click that somehow hurts more than if he'd slammed it.

I stare into my cup, throat tight. What did I expect? That one night would crack through years of carefully maintained walls?

"What's wrong with him?" Annalise asks, but there's something knowing in her tone that makes me wonder just how much she suspects.

"Nothing." I force myself to take a bite of food I can't taste. "Your father's just being your father."

"So what happened?" Annalise's fork clatters against her plate. "And don't say 'nothing' again. You two are acting weird."

I pick at my bread, tearing it into smaller and smaller pieces. "Your father and I... we had a moment. That's all."

"A moment?" Her eyes light up with interest, and I immediately shake my head.

“You know he doesn’t like people getting too close to him. Perhaps, I…pushed too hard.” I shouldn’t have said anything at all, but she would have kept pushing.

"And now he's being..." She waves her hand in the direction he left.

"Distant. Cold." I drop the mangled bread. "I don't know what I expected."

"He does this." Annalise leans forward, voice dropping. "Gets close then pulls away. Did it with Mom too, according to the staff who knew them. He's scared."

I study her face - so young yet carrying wisdom beyond her years. "Scared of what?"

"Everything. Feeling too much. Losing control." She shrugs. "Being happy, probably. Took him forever to let her in and then he really shut down after she died."

My fingers trace the rim of my teacup. Through the steam, I see glimpses of last night - the vulnerability in his golden eyes before he kissed me, the way his hands explored my skin, the way he'd whispered my name like a prayer. But then morning came, and those walls slammed back into place.

"He likes you," Annalise continues, surprisingly astute for fourteen. "I see how he watches you when he thinks no one's looking. But he’s not good at letting go of control."

"When did you get so perceptive?"

"When you're ignored enough, you learn to watch people." There's no bitterness in her tone, just statement of fact. "He's doing the same thing he did after Mom died - putting distance between himself and anything that might hurt him."

I remember the fear I'd glimpsed in his eyes just before he'd walked away last night. Not fear of me, but of what I represent - connection, vulnerability, the possibility of loss.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whisper, more to myself than Annalise.

She reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. "Maybe he needs to hear that."

"You should get started on your studies." I push back from the table, needing movement to settle my racing thoughts. "History first?"

Annalise groans but follows me to the library. The massive room holds thousands of books, their spines gleaming gold in the morning light. We settle at our usual table near the window, but my mind keeps drifting to last night - to the way Ridwan's wings had curled around us, creating a private world where nothing existed but his touch.

"You're not even listening." Annalise waves her hand in front of my face.

"Sorry." I blink, focusing on the open book. The words blur together.

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