It takes everything in me not to crumple into a pile on Callum’s floor.
“A feast?”
Back home, I’d relish the idea of going to a feast.
The balls, the gatherings, the summer festivals—I lived for those events. As stifling as they could be, they were the only times when my father saw me as useful—even if I was just a prop to him, or a trophy to dangle in front of visiting kingdoms.
But I have been riding for two days, and I haven’t bathed properly, and I don’t have my clothes or my servants or my make-up.
I shake my head. “No. I’m not in the mood for a feast. I will retire early tonight, and you can speak to Blake alone.”
Callum sighs. “Why don’t you sit down?”
He nods at the big four-poster bed to my side and my cheeks heat. I’m an unmarried woman. He can’t possibly expect me to sit
