She glared at him over her shoulder before she strode into the bathing chamber, Chaol close behind. She paused on the threshold. “Are you going to join me?” she said, and Chaol stiffened, realizing his error. He slammed the door in response.
Celaena found him waiting in her dining room when she emerged, her hair dripping water onto the floor. “Don’t you have your own breakfast?”
“You still haven’t given me an answer.”
“An answer to what?” She sat down across the table and spooned porridge into a bowl. All that was needed was a heap—no, three heaps—of sugar, and some hot cream and—
“Are you going to temple?”
“I’m allowed to go to temple, but not to the feast?” She took a spoonful of the porridge.
“Religious observances shouldn’t be denied to anyone.”
“And the feast is . . . ”
“A sho
