Page 99 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
Kas takes his dinner alone.
Shehadn’tturnedupthat morning, in fact, he hadn’t seen her all day.How dreary.Kas bemoaned the situation as he straightened the tablecloth, lit the candelabra, and not-so-patiently awaited the delivery of his private dinner for one. As it turned out, he too had come down with a mysterious but definitely not contagious illness by the time the evening rolled around.
It all started earlier that morning.
At breakfast, Thera quietly informed him Miss Kiappa had taken ill and would be unable to join them foreithermeal that day. Kas also learned that Nes told Aylin she’d not come down with anything contagious, and as such, she planned to meet with the children that afternoon, per their normal schedule.
His sister burst into laughter at the news, Kas chuckled softly, and his housekeeper raised a brow in response. Apparently, Thera expected him to be downright miserable after Nesrina refused his proposal.
He was sad but he had two things going for him. First, he’d seen the way Nes looked at him, the raw desire in her eyes when he’d sent a light breeze to wrap her in a hug before they’d spoken. She didn’t want to be his mistress, a role which he’d never even once considered propositioning her—or anyone—to fill. And she didn’t want to be the Guest of the King, an honorific he’d honestly never thought twice about. Apparently, shehated it, so he’d never usethatterm again. Those issues aside, she’d damned well seemed to want him, in some capacity at least, which prompted a spark of hope to burn on within Kas’s anxious soul.
Second, and most importantly, he’d been thinking, quite a lot in fact, all night in fact, about the things Nes said to him during their arguments. She wasn’t entirely wrong about the manipulation and the lies. He’d made a mess of things, and he desperately needed to speak with her. Over supper. That night.
With a yawn, Kas had turned his attention to his twins, who happily carried the breakfast conversation as they discussed their dinner plans: an elaborate picnic in the ballroom with their mum, both nannies, and far too many of his own staff who’d been roped into attending.
Good. It’ll keep them out of my hair.
Immediately following breakfast, he penned a note to the reclusive Nesrina, reminding her of their dinner appointment, and had it delivered to her room.
Nes’s return note arrived promptly, and he eagerly unfolded the small piece of parchment. Her careful handwriting was centered on the page in a sentence that contained three words:
No, it’s improper.
He indicated to the servant that he’d ring when he was ready to reply. The moment Kas’s office door shut behind the girl, he grabbed a fresh piece of paper and dipped his pen to work on his response.
Quite some time, and several sheets later, he settled on a simple note. Kas matched Nes’s energy and got straight to the point.
I’ll invite the family.
One word scratched onto a small scrap of paper was returned in response.
No.
We can eat in the kitchens, if that helps.
No.
A full five-course meal to be attended by all members of the household?
No. I am not feeling well and will be taking dinner,alone, in my chamber this evening.
Alone was underlined three times. He sighed, and recognizing the tonal shift in her writing, decided to lay off... for the time being.
She’d shaken him off that afternoon by holding the twins’ lesson in some unused corner of his house. He’d sauntered out to the glade like a lovesick fool, hoping to find her setting up to teach. But the clearing was quiet aside from the trickling stream and birds laughing at him from the trees. They weren’t in the central parlor either, which he’d left unfurnished for the trio’s use.
It reached a point where he’d found himself questioning his sister and the staff in a sad attempt to ascertain their whereabouts. He was worried about thetwins, he’d sworn, only to be met with poorly disguised smirks and knowing glances from his obnoxiously insightful team. No one knew where they’d gotten off to, but the twins ended up resurfacing precisely three minutes after the end of their lesson, which confirmed they’d been somewhere inside his house the entire time. Rumor had it, Nes managed to sneak back to her room nearly undetected.
It was around that time Kas announced he wasn’t feeling well and would be taking dinner,alone,in his apartment.
Impatience thrummed through him as he tapped his foot and awaitedhis meal. Finally, a series of soft knocks sounded on his door, and he hurried across the room to answer. Thera passed him a covered tray with a wink and an offhand comment, “My wife’s probably above me, right now, delivering Miss Kiappa’s meal. Isn’t that fun?”
It was in that manner that Kas Kahoth literally took his dinner alone. Though he had no plans of eating by himself.
He closed and locked the door then dropped his tray on the table and ran his hand through his hair. He couldn’t do this. It was manipulative, exactly what she’d railed on him for.
No, it’s agoodidea, Kas.
He wasn’t so sure. She might not take it well. At the same time, he needed to speak with her, to see her, even if only across a table.
