Chapter 34 Kas takes his dinner alone.
thirty-four
Kas takes his dinner alone.
She hadn’t turned up that morning, in fact, he hadn’t seen her all day.
How dreary. Kas bemoaned the situation as he straightened the tablecloth, lit the candelabra, and not-so-patiently awaited the delivery of his private dinner for one.
As it turned out, he too had come down with a mysterious but definitely not contagious illness by the time the evening rolled around.
It all started earlier that morning.
At breakfast, Thera quietly informed him Miss Kiappa had taken ill and would be unable to join them for either meal that day.
Kas also learned that Nes told Aylin she’d not come down with anything contagious, and as such, she planned to meet with the children that afternoon, per their normal schedule.
His sister burst into laughter at the news, Kas chuckled softly, and his housekeeper raised a brow in response. Apparently, Thera expected him to be downright miserable after Nesrina refused his proposal.
He was sad but he had two things going for him.
First, he’d seen the way Nes looked at him, the raw desire in her eyes when he’d sent a light breeze to wrap her in a hug before they’d spoken.
She didn’t want to be his mistress, a role which he’d never even once considered propositioning her—or anyone—to fill.
And she didn’t want to be the Guest of the King, an honorific he’d honestly never thought twice about.
Apparently, she hated it, so he’d never use that term again.
Those issues aside, she’d damned well seemed to want him, in some capacity at least, which prompted a spark of hope to burn on within Kas’s anxious soul.
Second, and most importantly, he’d been thinking, quite a lot in fact, all night in fact, about the things Nes said to him during their arguments.
She wasn’t entirely wrong about the manipulation and the lies.
He’d made a mess of things, and he desperately needed to speak with her. Over supper. That night.
With a yawn, Kas had turned his attention to his twins, who happily carried the breakfast conversation as they discussed their dinner plans: an elaborate picnic in the ballroom with their mum, both nannies, and far too many of his own staff who’d been roped into attending.
Good. It’ll keep them out of my hair.
Immediately following breakfast, he penned a note to the reclusive Nesrina, reminding her of their dinner appointment, and had it delivered to her room.
Nes’s return note arrived promptly, and he eagerly unfolded the small piece of parchment. Her careful handwriting was centered on the page in a sentence that contained three words:
No, it’s improper.
He indicated to the servant that he’d ring when he was ready to reply. The moment Kas’s office door shut behind the girl, he grabbed a fresh piece of paper and dipped his pen to work on his response.
Quite some time, and several sheets later, he settled on a simple note. Kas matched Nes’s energy and got straight to the point.
I’ll invite the family.
One word scratched onto a small scrap of paper was returned in response.
No.
We can eat in the kitchens, if that helps.
No.
A full five-course meal to be attended by all members of the household?
No. I am not feeling well and will be taking dinner, alone, in my chamber this evening.
Alone was underlined three times. He sighed, and recognizing the tonal shift in her writing, decided to lay off . . . for the time being.
She’d shaken him off that afternoon by holding the twins’ lesson in some unused corner of his house.
He’d sauntered out to the glade like a lovesick fool, hoping to find her setting up to teach.
But the clearing was quiet aside from the trickling stream and birds laughing at him from the trees.
They weren’t in the central parlor either, which he’d left unfurnished for the trio’s use.
It reached a point where he’d found himself questioning his sister and the staff in a sad attempt to ascertain their whereabouts.
He was worried about the twins, he’d sworn, only to be met with poorly disguised smirks and knowing glances from his obnoxiously insightful team.
No one knew where they’d gotten off to, but the twins ended up resurfacing precisely three minutes after the end of their lesson, which confirmed they’d been somewhere inside his house the entire time.
Rumor had it, Nes managed to sneak back to her room nearly undetected.
It was around that time Kas announced he wasn’t feeling well and would be taking dinner, alone, in his apartment.
Impatience thrummed through him as he tapped his foot and awaited his meal.
Finally, a series of soft knocks sounded on his door, and he hurried across the room to answer.
Thera passed him a covered tray with a wink and an offhand comment, “My wife’s probably above me, right now, delivering Miss Kiappa’s meal. Isn’t that fun?”
It was in that manner that Kas Kahoth literally took his dinner alone. Though he had no plans of eating by himself.
He closed and locked the door then dropped his tray on the table and ran his hand through his hair. He couldn’t do this. It was manipulative, exactly what she’d railed on him for.
No, it’s a good idea, Kas.
He wasn’t so sure. She might not take it well. At the same time, he needed to speak with her, to see her, even if only across a table.
Rolling his neck, he exhaled, long and dramatic. He could do this. If she won’t talk to me, I’ll say my piece from behind the panel. He nodded to himself, then stalked into his washroom.
At the top of the hidden stairs, he rapped against the door, was greeted by a muffled yelp, took a steeling breath, then popped the latch from the inside.
Kas waltzed into the chamber like he owned the place—which he did—and locked eyes on Nesrina. She stood, frozen halfway between the sitting area and the bed, like she’d been coming to greet him. Her dinner tray sat, lid still in place, atop the low table.
Nes didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to for him to know he’d made the right choice.
Sure, she had her hands on her hips and pursed her perfect rosebud lips in a rather terrifying scowl.
But he knew her better than that, he saw beyond Nesrina’s show of anger and noticed her left foot tapping beneath her long dress.
He noticed the pinching and rolling of fabric between her thumb and forefinger on her right hip. He noticed her raised brows.
She was nervous, yes. A little annoyed with him? Sure. But she was also intrigued.
Kas bit back a smile and inclined his head in a show of respect before walking past, picking up her dinner, and striding right back to the panel he’d left open.
Although he didn’t allow himself to turn around for her reaction, he heard her mouth pop open as he passed by.
At the base of the stairs, he waited. It took a minute, but eventually, as he’d hoped, she followed.
True to form, his lovely distraction stomped all the way down so he would know she wasn’t happy about it.
“I’m only joining you because I’m hungry, and we need to talk,” she shouted in time with her steps.
This time he didn’t bother biting back his smile as she followed, hot on his heels, all the way to the table.
Kas set down her dinner across from his, then pulled out Nesrina’s chair.
She sat.
With a flourish, he lifted the lids from both trays before taking his seat across from her. They had identical meals of steak, potatoes, and roasted vegetables.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead busying herself by twisting the stem of her empty wineglass back and forth between her fingertips.
“Nes—” He cleared his throat. “Nesrina. We need to talk.”
The glass in her hand stilled, and he heard her teeth grit. “I literally just said that.”
“Sorry, you did. I’m nervous.”
She blinked at her plate, apparently stunned by his confession.
“I want to apologize for forcing you to join me like this. I may not be a smart man, but I’m not an idiot—”
She tilted her left hand from side to side.
He chuckled. She still hadn’t looked at him, but it was better than nothing. She was listening. “I’m no fool, Nes. I recognize manipulating you into dinner tonight is exactly what you don’t want me to be doing.”
She nodded.
“But I desperately needed to speak with you.” His voice cracked on the word desperately, something that hadn’t happened since he was a very young man.
Nesrina tilted her face up and met his eyes, finally. She smirked as she took in his blush.
He shook his head. “If you’re at all concerned about the propriety of dining together, let me remind you, the staff are all aware we’ve both come down with something. You’re dining alone in your chamber; I’m dining alone in mine. We won’t be bothered.”
She sucked her teeth.
“Wrong thing to say?” Kas leaned forward and filled Nes’s wine glass liberally, before addressing his own. Tonight’s servings were at least one and a half times as much as usual. He, for one, needed the liquid courage.
She took a slow sip.
“You’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay.”
Thank the gods.
“For dinner,” she added dryly.
Kas smiled. “I’m going to talk now. I heard what you said, Nes, and I have quite a lot I need to say in response. Please, hear me out?”
She began to cut into her steak.
So far, so good. Kas took a healthy drink before he began, “When I first saw you, three symposiums ago, I was infatuated. You know this. I thought you were the most brilliant and beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Still do, in fact.” He took another sip.