Nathaniel put down his empty glass with a click. And we sort of stared at each other for a while. I honestly couldn’t tell anymore if we were enemies or allies or something in between, like the English and German soldiers playing football in no-man’s-land on Christmas Day. Only with less mud and imminent, horrible death. I opened my mouth to say…I don’t know…I guess I wanted to be honest? I wasn’t made for whatever game we were playing. And I didn’t think he was either.
But before I could speak, there came the rattle of a lock and the sound of footsteps in the hall, and my brain went surface-of-Mars desolate apartfrom he has a key to Nathaniel’s house, which scored itself into my psyche in letters that could be seen from space. And then Caspian himself walked into the kitchen.
Chapter 16
His coat was over his arm, and he was wearing one of his most austere suits: charcoal grey over a blue shirt, with a dark tie, very similar, now I thought about it, to the one he’d worn for the interview. It wasn’t my favourite look for him—I missed the sly flamboyance of his pocket squares and silk linings—but it gave him this kind of refined ferocity, all sharp lines and shadows like a thresher shark.
“It seems”—his gaze settled on our empty cocktail glasses—“I’ve missed quite the party.”
“That’s what you get for being late,” I told him at the same time Nathaniel said, “We had one drink.”
God help us, it was going to be a long evening.
Nathaniel slipped away from the breakfast bar and kissed Caspian lightly on the cheek—which I desperately, desperately didn’t want to see, but ho hum. “I’m glad you’re here. Why don’t you take Arden through to the dining room and I’ll serve?”
It was, like, literally off the kitchen, so I didn’t need an escort. All the same, I waited for Caspian to pass his coat to Nathaniel and then obediently followed him through to another well-proportioned, well-appointed room, this time with a fashionably rustic vibe. Seriously, couldn’t Nathaniel own one ugly thing? Just one?
Lillie slunk in and eyed us both with obvious contempt.
“She can be nervous around strangers,” explained Caspian.
I have to admit I wasn’t feeling super long on social graces right then. “Does she now?” I waved my bloody hand. “I had no idea.”
“So”—he cleared his throat—“injuries aside, how are you?”
“Good, thanks. You?”
“Likewise.” I gave him a withering look and he had the grace to blush. “That is, I’m quite well. Busy, of course. But well. And what of you?”
“I just told you: I’m good.”
There was definitely a panicky glaze in his eyes now. “So you did. But your family? Are all in good health?”
“They were, but then Little Timmy was taken by the sweating sickness. Yes, it’s the twenty-first century, so my family are fine. But what the hell is wrong with you? Have you forgotten how to human?” Yikes. I probably shouldn’t have drunk that cosmo so quickly.
He dropped into a chair with an unusual lack of elegance. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”
I plonked my hands on my hips and stared at him in a way I couldn’t categorise. “Still want me to be here?”
“Yes.” His voice was soft, but terribly sincere. “I’ve missed you.”
“Then”—I also decided being in a chair might be good—“maybe you should have thought of that before you dumped me.”
“Arden.”
“What?”
He gave me this impossible look, his eyes as stark as his suit, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry or beg or smack him in the nads. “It was the right decision. You have no idea how important your happiness is to me.”
“Y’know something? You’re right. I don’t.”
At that moment, Nathaniel came in, balancing dishes, and I realised I didn’t know what volume I’d been employing or how much he’d heard. From his serene expression, I was guessing…all of it.
“To start,” he said, “halloumi with honey and spiced nuts.”
Only Nathaniel could make pieces of cheese look elegant—but they did, artfully balanced against each other, with their almost geometric grill stripes. I mumbled a thank-you.
“Oh”—he set the last plate down in front of Caspian—“and it’s nearly eight, my prince. Don’t forget.”