Page 83 of The Last Guardian

Zaidkiel chuckled again, and I glared at him.

Ass.

“There! You can push the beds together, of course.” Ade turned to us with a beaming smile.

Glaring at Zaidkiel, I waited to hear him say we wouldn’t do that at all.

But the jerk answered, with a satisfied grin, “We will.”

I scoffed, widening my eyes. But before I could insult him, Ade spoke again, with a knowing smile. “You must be hungry! Come, I’ll serve you dinner.”

The aroma of roasted beef and fresh-baked bread filled the air when we stepped inside the dining hall. My stomach rumbled.

“You’ll come by later for a little chat? It’s been so long since I last saw you.” Ade grabbed two big pints of ale and set down our plates as we sat at a small table, Zaidkiel facing me.

“Of course,” Zaidkiel said with a soft smile.

Ade nodded and said with a wink, “Enjoy your night, love birds.” Then she walked away, stopping at another table to chat with her guests.

Cutlery buzzed, mingling with the laughter of the small, cozy space. Every guest with their own little corner. A gentle murmur filled the room as we ate.

“You could have told her we aren’t together!” I sneered as I leaned against the table.

“I couldn’t resist,” Zaidkiel laughed, sipping his ale. “The look on your face was priceless.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my amusement. “You’re an ass.”

My eyes drifted to the lady talking to her guest for a moment, thinking of how comfortable and younger Zaidkiel was around her.

“You’ve known her for a long time,” I said, glancing back at him.

Zaidkiel leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat, a beautiful smile curling on his lips. He could be an ass, but damn, the man was handsome—unfairly so. “Ade was a friend of my mother’s. She left Evadrith after my mother’s…” His voice trailed off, and he stopped. His eyes dropping to his plate, “When she passed away.”

He tried to hide it, but I caught a glimpse of his eyes, darkened by an emotion—one I knew too well. It was a reflection of my own.

Sorrow.

“I’m sorry. I—” I hesitated, but that feeling—the one I couldn’t name, the one that kept pushing me to say more around him—urged me. “My mother passed away five years ago.” My eyes fell on my plate, my fork playing with the rest of my potatoes. “Not a day has gone by since that I haven’t thought of her.”

I shook my head, trying to ignore the threatening tears and the stirring in my heart… “Anyway, I’m not sure it’s something that will ever go away.”

Zaidkiel raised his eyes to meet mine. A strong emotion coursed through them. Not pity—but understanding. Like he could see everything through me.

“I heard about it,” he murmured, trying to broach the subject carefully, “about how your mother passed. The pneumonia…”

A scoff escaped my throat. And I looked away for a second, trying to stop the tears threatening to fall.

Concentrate.

“What?” Zaidkiel placed his forearms on the table, searching my gaze, a frown etched on his brow.

I shook my head, refusing to say more, to feel more.

Bury it all away, I ordered myself, show nothing. Hide, hide, hide.

But—

The tears flowed. I couldn’t keep them in.