Page 59 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
Selene freezes. She’s not used to Dorian being short with her—or short with anyone. How has being humble offended him?
“Sorry,” he murmurs, looking away. “That was… unnecessary. I didn’t mean to… Sorry.”
“I didn’t know you could be short with anyone.”
“Everyone has their limits.” He runs a hand down his face. “I’m tired,” he admits, standing up and downing the last of his glass. “This has been really nice, but I am exhausted now, and would like some rest.”
Selene stands up. “Of course.”
“I truly am sorry,” he says. “And—thank you.”
Selene offers him a small smile. “You’re welcome.”
Dorian sleeps in the next morning, which brings Selene some comfort. He rises just as she’s finishing breakfast. The dark shadows under his eyes have receded somewhat.
Ariella pinches one of his cheeks as he sits down at the terrace table.
“Oy!” he says.
“You look brighter today,” she tells him.
“Then you shouldsay thatrather than pinching my cheeks!”
“Now, where would be the fun in that? I’ll be pinching your cheeks when you’re seventy, boy.”
“Ariella, I cannot stress how much that I amno longer a child.”
“I changed you when you were in your swaddling clothes,” she tells him. “Nothing you can tell me will alter that.”
Dorian blushes a deep shade of scarlet. Selene tries not to laugh. Embarrassed or not, she rather wishesshe’dhad an Ariella growing up.
“You’re smiling at me,” Dorian remarks over the top of the newspaper he’s trying to bury himself in.
“That is because you are very sweet.”
Dorian blushes even further.
After dinner, as promised, Dorian comes to Selene’s room and summons her for another game. They settle in beside the window in his room for another round ofLast Man Home.
“I went easy on you last time,” Dorian insists. “Tonight, I shall be taking no prisoners.”
“We shall see,” Selene remarks, with a confidence she remembers wielding once before—before the Duke, when she believed all men were like Dorian.
“About last night…” she begins.
“Please, Selene, I truly am sorry—”
“I believe you,” she says quickly. “That isn’t what I want to address.”
Dorian raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Selene knows she doesn’t owe him an explanation for why she is the way she is—indeed, she can’t fully explain it in a way that will make sense—but at the same time, shewantshim to know. She wants him to understand her better.
She wants to understand him better, too.
“I’ve been taught to be humble,” she explains to him. “I’m never supposed to agree with a compliment, especially around men. From a very young age, much of my education has revolved around how to make men happy and comfortable, often at the expense of my own needs and desires.”
Dorian nods solemnly, as if this isn’t news to him. “I’m sorry that you were treated that way,” he says. “But I hope that you know… you don’t have to do that here. You don’t need to pretend, or perform, or do anything you don’t want to.”
