“Is it your favorite, though?” He motioned to her untouched glass. “You haven’t even tried it yet.” It was a clear challenge, and he waited patiently for her to rise to the occasion.
She knew she’d agreed not to drink any of the alcohol, but there was no way she could turn Trystan down now. It would be way too suspicious for her to refuse, and would also lead to his thinking she wanted to keep a clear head in order to stay on her toes. The last thing she needed was his knowing how nervous he made her.
Lifting the drink, she took a tentative sip, almost giving herself away when a burst of fruit flavors surprised her. It was sort of like grapefruit and lemons, a combination she would have thought too citrusy but that somehow worked.
She swallowed down another sip and then returned it to the table. A rush of warmth spread through her, and she immediately felt some of the tension ease from her muscles. Which wasn’t good, because she needed to keep her wits about her in order to survive this—possibly even literally.
“You like it.” He grinned then like the cat that ate the canary.
“Did you expect me not to?” Okay, now she was confused.…
“It’s just”—he propped his elbows on the table—“you used to hate it. After seeing you clearly enjoy the Tandem this morning, I was curious to discover what else is different. As I’ve already admitted, I know next to nothing about you, Lissa, other than of course the fact that you’re an indulgent—”
“Child?” she cut him off, quickly taking another sip despite knowing it was a bad idea. “Hmm, so you’ve mentioned.” It didn’t pass by her notice that he’d purposefully left out the part about almost being blown up at said Tandem this morning.
He’d tricked her, telling her that it was something she liked and then divulging that Olena hated it. The real question was why?
“Which makes me curious,” she went on, hoping to get to the heart of the situation, “why I’m here right now. What’s the purpose of us eating together when there’s nothing to do but trade insults?”
Instead of answering, he motioned to the tray in front of her. “You should eat. Go ahead.” His eyes glimmered. “I made sure not to order crumvit.”
Shit. He’d noticed her avoiding the pink stuff on her plate this morning, which she assumed was called crumvit. Just how attentive had he secretly been?
She forced herself to reach out and lift the lid like he’d suggested. “My tastes have changed since my trip.”
“It seems a lot has with you.” He nodded, removing the top to his own dinner.
Delaney blinked down at her plate, at first thinking she must be hallucinating. A glance over at the dish in front of him, however, proved otherwise. A cheeseburger with a fluffy toasted bun and a piece of crisp, vibrant green lettuce sat next to a heaping pile of crispy, browned French fries. There was a dollop of ketchup to the side, as well as another darker one she recognized as barbeque sauce.
The smell was a fresh mixture of tangy spices and medium-cooked meat, almost like she’d just ordered it straight from a restaurant on Earth.
Unable to cover her frown this time, she met his gaze. “What is this?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Obviously—”
“Then that’s a pretty stupid question, don’t you think?”
“Where did you get this?” she bit out, clenching her hands under the table. The see-through table, so of course he saw, and the corner of his mouth turned up mockingly.
“I instructed the cooks to make it,” he said. “After your reaction to breakfast this morning, I assumed you could use something more familiar. Five years is a long time to be away from home; it’s really not that surprising you’ve developed a taste for Earth food. I myself have never tried”—he circled a finger over his own burger—“this before, so I’m warning you now, if I don’t like it, I’ll be very cross with you.”
“It’s not like I ordered you to get it,” she pointed out, narrowing her eyes.
He chuckled. “You couldn’t order me to do anything, Lissa. Let’s not forget that.”
“That’s right. I’m not the Rex.” She realized mentioning his father was a huge mistake a second later when his eyes heated like daggers and his shoulders tensed to the point that he looked twice the size he’d been a moment prior.
“Neither of us is pleased about this,” she carried on, easing her voice some so that it was no longer taunting or accusatory. She hoped it didn’t noticeably shake. “Is goading each other really the best solution?”
Instinct told her that pushing him right now would be the worst mistake of her life. As pissed as he’d just made her, only one of them was an alien capable of choking the life out of the other.
“We’re both slaves to our king’s will,” he stated. “For now, the Rex dictates my life, and the Basileus dictates yours. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, or you for that matter.”
“I can say the same,” she pointed out. “It’s clear we’re a terrible match.”
“But we were matched.” He picked up his cheeseburger. “And in less than two months we’ll be bound if our fathers have their way.”
She reached for Ruckus, felt the now familiar burn at her neck. “They’re getting married in two months?!”
“That is the current plan,” Ruckus confirmed.
Before she could respond, Trystan made a sound in the back of his throat, something akin to a moan. His eyes were closed, and he was slowly chewing the bite he’d just taken, clearly savoring it.
“It appears I won’t have to punish you after all,” he told her once he’d swallowed. “This is actually very good.”
“Being here is punishment enough,” she expressed. She’d tried to ease the tension, tried being passably nice, and he’d wanted none of it. Sure, he was scary and could kill her bare-handed, but one attempt at being the voice of reason here was enough for her.
He didn’t get angry by her words anyway, motioning to her own untouched food instead and ordered, “Eat.”
Not having a good enough reason not to, she did as he said. They settled into a reasonably tolerable silence, both of them diving into their food. And why not? It was the only thing in the room either of them actually liked.
For the second time that day Delaney felt bad for Olena—and for Trystan. It must suck being told you were going to share your life with someone you couldn’t even share a single meal with. If she’d been in Olena’s shoes, she’d have wanted an out as well; though, she liked to believe she was a better person and wouldn’t have screwed over some innocent in order to save her own skin.
Trystan got up suddenly, startling her from her musings. Even more surprising, she noticed that they’d both finished eating. At some point, she must have sipped more of the bergozy as well, for the glass that’d been mostly full was more than half empty.