“Really, I’m fine, this is too much fuss,” Lyria protested. She was safely ensconced back at the castle, her shoulders draped in blankets. Wallace had insisted on sitting her next to a warm fire and personally bringing her food and drink at an alarmingly fast rate. Sitting on the table next to her were two cups of warm tea, a half empty glass of bloodfruit infusion for Lyria’s health, several juices, and a large pitcher of water. A platter was stacked high with breads and fruits on one side and tender strips of meat on another. An entire cake sat on a table nearby, waiting for Lyria’s sweet tooth to kick in.
“You will sit here, and you will relax, and you will like it,” Wallace growled protectively. Lyria laughed and trailed a hand gently along his forearm. He was seated on the plush chai
