CHAPTER 344: A CONVERSATION

The fire crackled softly as she sat at the table in nothing but a bathrobe. Her hair was still slightly wet, even though the maids had spent a generous amount of time drying it as best as they could. They had been worried she would catch a cold if they didn’t dry it well enough.

Rose wasn’t worried about that; the fireplace was burning, and the windows were shut. She felt warm and cozy. She was more worried about her sore muscles than catching a cold.

She had been washed in very warm water—one might even say it was hot—which was fitting for the weather. After she had been cleaned, the maids spent a significant amount of time applying the sweetest-smelling oils to her skin.

Compared to the torture her body had gone through before noon, Rose needed all the pampering she could get. Unfortunately, the reason for her torture was sitting across from her with a smile on his face. He scratched at his stubble as he made to dig into breakfast.

Caius hadn’t stopped until it was almost noon. It wasn’t until he heard her stomach rumble that he seemed to remember she was human and would need things like food and water.

She was surprised she could even stand after all that. However, compared to him, the contrast was noticeable. She was barely holding herself up while he looked refreshed and energized.

Rose couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if her stomach hadn’t cried for help. Was he not hungry at any point during it? Rose thought it was a nonsensical question to ask, as she knew Caius only cared about one thing.

Caius had wanted to feed her on the spot, but Rose would rather die than eat while her insides were filled with his... She refused to complete the thought while she prepared to eat.

She had asked to go to her room to clean up and eat, but Caius had declined, and without giving her a chance to plead her case, he called the maids to his chambers instead. Rose didn’t know how she felt about them seeing the state of the sheets and herself. She was a mess from head to toe, with enough signs on her body to tell anyone what had occurred. But, she was sure everyone in the castle already knew exactly why she was here.

"Is there something you don’t like?" Caius asked.

Rose lifted her gaze to look at him. His hair was combed away from his face, highlighting his forehead and eyebrows. His slick, black hair glimmered in the candlelight, which was needed as the windows were shut tight.

He blinked, and Rose lowered her gaze to the table, not wanting to be caught staring, but not before seeing the hickey on the side of his neck. However, the hickey was likely inconsequential considering the numerous scratches and bites she had left on his torso. Rose forced herself not to think back. Everything was completely Caius’ fault.

"No, Your Majesty," she replied.

"Finally," Caius said as he sliced off a generous serving from the chicken’s thigh.

Rose tilted her head to look at him. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to figure out what he was talking about. She wasn’t sure this was something she could ask about.

Caius saw her expression and smirked. "You’re calling me Your Majesty again. I thought you were saving it for only when you’re on the brink of climax."

Rose felt all the blood drain from her face, and almost immediately, it rushed back. She was as red as the color on her head. "I—I," she stuttered, unsure what to say to this. How was she to save her dignity?

"I quite like both," Caius said, and he stuffed his face with chicken.

Rose entertained the thought of pushing the fork into his mouth with enough force to push it out the back of his head. This thought was, thankfully, able to salvage the rest of her composure.

Deciding it would be best not to respond to him, she dug into her brunch, her stomach growling. It wasn’t like she cared what she called him. She was used to calling him Your Majesty, but that wasn’t his title. She had just tried to address him properly, and this was what she got.

"How was the journey here?" Caius asked suddenly.

Rose almost bit her tongue. A conversation? He wants to have a conversation?

"It was well," Rose replied. Her hands felt stiff as she moved a piece of chicken to her lips. The conversation felt awkward.

"Thomas tells me you had to stay at an inn for the night," Caius added.

Rose didn’t miss the disapproval in his tone. "It was a nice inn," she said reflexively, feeling an intense urge to defend Thomas. The lad had kept her safe and made sure she arrived on time.

Caius was clearly very different from last night. Last night she had been worried that the smallest action could get her punished, but right now there was even a smile on his face.

Caius raised a brow at her response, but he didn’t disagree. Rather, he changed the subject. "I heard about your mot—"

"I haven’t seen any signs of Prince Rylen," she heard herself say.

Rose gasped for air at the pit in her stomach. It didn’t help that Caius’s expression soured—he was clearly displeased. She bent her head to her plate, exerting too much effort in slicing the meat.

Rose had felt all the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as Caius mentioned her mother, and without realizing it, she interrupted him, changing the subject completely.

Rose almost stabbed herself with the fork. She should have just let him talk about her mother, but Rose knew she couldn’t handle the subject being brought up, especially by him.

She appreciated his help and the fact that he sent Paul, but it certainly didn’t erase the fact that her mother probably wouldn’t have worsened this quickly if she hadn’t left home. No amount of kindness from him could change that.