Nevara
I didn’t expect him to knock. But he did—soft, hesitant. Like he was bracing for rejection.
I opened the door to find Thoren standing there, dressed down in black, casual enough that I might’ve believed he wasn’t the king. But it was the small box in his hand that caught my attention.
“Hi,” he said. “You have a minute?”
I stepped aside wordlessly and let him in.
“I know it’s late,” he went on, clearing his throat. “But… I thought maybe we could do dinner. Again. This time without mashed potatoes being weaponized.”
That got the faintest twitch from my mouth.
He held out the box, the rough paper tied with twine. “I brought something for you.”
I hesitated before taking it. “Is this your way of bribing me into dinner?”
“Only if it works.”
I sat down on the edge of the couch an
