VIOLET — POV
The smell of sizzling eggs and toasted bread filled the kitchen, mixing with the soft bubbling of the kettle on the stove. Inara stood beside me, humming under her breath as she sliced fruit into neat little sections, her hands moving fast and practiced.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, glancing sideways at me.
I didn't look up. I spread the butter over the last piece of toast and stacked it onto the tray beside the steaming tea and fresh fruit. "He's probably starving down there. No one's checked on him since I asked yesterday."
Inara sighed but didn't argue. Instead, she handed me a napkin and took a step back, wiping her hands on her apron. "Just don't let Zain catch you."
"I'm not scared of him," I muttered, even though my heart kicked a little harder at the sound of his name.
I reached for the tray—
The door slammed open behind me, and the kitchen went dead silent.
Even before I turned, I felt him.
