The Morning After
Evelyn stared at the plate in front of her, a small smile playing at her lips. It was piled high with thick slabs of roasted meat, eggs, and fresh fruit—enough food to feed four people.
"I see that you're feeling extra generous today," she teased, glancing at Valerian over the rim of her goblet.
The once-drunken hunter was now sober, his usual composed and unreadable self was back. His dark hair was slightly tousled from sleep, and his sharp features were set in that same brooding expression he always wore. He looked at her, eyes dark with something unreadable, before quickly looking away.
Evelyn nearly laughed. He was trying so hard to act as if nothing had happened, but the stiffness in his shoulders, the way he held his fork just a little too tightly, told a different story.
She decided to push him a little further.
"What happened last night—"
