Thank you so so much @Jennifer_ Goliah for the gift.

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Rosaline’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she stared at Xandros, trying to read through the maddening calm on his face.

He was standing far too close.....or she had gone too close to him.

Anyway it didn’t matter.

Close enough that the warmth from his body reached her through the thin fabric of her very thin gown.

Close enough that she could still smell the faint trace of sandalwood and cold steel that always seemed to cling to him.

And close enough that her heartbeat had once again started behaving in ways she found deeply inconvenient.

"I asked you a question," she said, lifting her chin even as her voice betrayed a slight unsteadiness. "Who changed my clothes last night?"

Xandros did not answer immediately.

Instead, his mouth curved.

That dangerous, infuriating half-smile that always seemed to mean trouble.

Then, very deliberately, he leaned closer.

Rosaline’s breath hitched.

Instinctively, she took a step back.

But the movement was cut short.

Her wings, still far too large and far too unfamiliar, pressed awkwardly against the edge of the bed behind her, trapping her in place.

Her eyes widened.

Xandros noticed.

Of course he noticed....he was definitely happy.

His gaze flickered briefly over the white feathers trembling behind her before settling back on her face.

"If you want details," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, silk over sharpened steel, "I could simply reenact the moment for you."

Rosaline’s entire body went rigid.

Warning bells rang violently in her mind.

Every sensible part of her screamed at her to move.

To say something sharp.

To push him away.

But another quieter, far more dangerous part of her...

wanted to know.

Wanted to see exactly what he meant.

Her throat suddenly felt dry.

She cleared it.

Too loudly.

"I...I don’t need a reenactment."

"No?"

"No." She said again..... assuring herself also.

His smile deepened.

"Pity."

Rosaline gathered what little dignity remained to her, pushed one rebellious strand behind her ear, and stepped sideways...this time carefully avoiding her wings.

"I’m going to wash up," she announced, as though that settled everything.

She turned.

Took exactly one step.

And stopped.

Something tugged.

A sharp little pull.

Her eyes widened.

Slowly...very slowly...she turned back.

Xandros was holding one of her feathers.

Not tightly.

Not enough to hurt.

Just between two fingers.

As though he had plucked it from the air simply because he could.

Rosaline stared.

He stared back.

"What," she said slowly, "are you doing?"

His expression remained perfectly serious.

"Nothing."

"You are holding my wing."

"It drifted toward me."

Rosaline blinked.

"That is the worst excuse I have ever heard."

He released the feather.

It floated gently back into place.

"You may go," he said calmly, as though none of that had happened.

Rosaline stared at him for another full second.

Then turned toward the bathroom muttering, "I genuinely think there is something wrong with your head."

Behind her, she heard him chuckle.

That somehow annoyed her more.

The bathroom was beautiful and dark..... like eerily...nut no sense of danger came from it.

Of course it was.....it was Xandros we are talking about here.

Everything inside Xandros’s chambers seemed designed to remind people that he was obscenely wealthy.

The marble floors gleamed beneath her feet.

Onyx-trimmed mirrors reflected the morning light.

A giant sunken bath filled one side of the room, steam still curling lazily upward.

Rosaline barely had time to admire it.

The moment she stepped fully inside...

Chaos erupted.

Her left wing hit a towel rack.

It crashed.

Her right wing clipped a tray of oils.

Glass shattered.

She spun too quickly.

A folded screen toppled dramatically into the bathwater.

Rosaline froze.

Then winced.

Outside, Xandros’s voice came immediately.

"Rosaline."

"I’m fine!" she shouted.

A beat.

Then another loud crash.

"Rosaline." He called out again

"I said I’m fine!"

A vase Shattered somewhere behind her.

Silence.

Then his voice again...far too amused.

"Should I come assist you?"

"Absolutely not!"

Another feather swept across a shelf.

Three bottles rolled off and smashed.

Rosaline groaned.

"This is humiliating."

"Only for you," Xandros replied.

That earned him a glare he thankfully could not see.

By the time she managed to wash herself, untangle one wing from the curtain rod, and avoid drowning in the bath entirely, she was exhausted.

She stepped out nearly forty minutes later, dressed in a fresh pale robe, her white hair damp and hanging in wet waves down her back.

Her wings, still too large, drooped behind her from fatigue.

She looked...

Xandros blinked once.

Like a drenched swan.

Soft.

Beautiful.

Ridiculously vulnerable.

Water slid down the side of her neck and disappeared beneath the robe.

His throat tightened.

Rosaline caught him staring.

Immediately suspicious, she narrowed her eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You’re lying."

"Perhaps."

She opened her mouth to challenge him.

A knock interrupted them.

Both turned.

Xandros crossed the room and opened the door.

The butler stood outside with a breakfast tray balanced carefully in his hands.

He bowed.

"Your Grace."

"Thank you, Alden."

Alden’s eyes briefly flicked past him.

He clearly noticed the damp feathers peeking out from behind Rosaline.

His expression did not change.

Not even slightly.

"Is everything satisfactory, Your Grace?" he asked.

"It is."

Alden nodded.

"As expected."

He stepped back.

And left.

Rosaline blinked.

"That man didn’t even react."

Xandros shut the door.

"Alden has seen stranger things."

He carried the tray toward the table.

Rosaline followed with interest.

"What could possibly be stranger than this?"

Xandros placed the tray down.

For a brief moment, his expression softened.

"He has served me since I first came to Dagon," he said quietly.

"He wasn’t always my butler. Once, he was a soldier."

Rosaline listened.

"He was dying when I found him," Xandros continued. "An ambush. He had been abandoned by his own command. I pulled him out."

"And since then?"

"He decided his life belonged to me."

Rosaline looked toward the door thoughtfully.

"That’s... loyal."

"It’s foolish."

She smiled faintly.

"Sometimes they’re the same thing."

Before Xandros could answer, Rosaline’s stomach growled.

Loudly.

Her entire face turned pink.

He looked at her.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

It startled both of them.

"Eat," he said trying to cover up the awkwardness.

Rosaline did not need to be told twice.

She practically launched herself at the food.

Warm bread.

Roasted meat.

Sweet fruit.

Honeyed tea.

She was halfway through a roll before Xandros even sat down.

"I was imprisoned last night," she said through a bite. "That was traumatic."

"I noticed."

"And I awakened with wings."

"Yes."

"So naturally I deserve compensation."

He lifted a brow.

"This is compensation?"

She pointed dramatically at the food.

"It helps."

His mouth twitched again.

Then he stood.

"I’m taking a bath."

Rosaline waved a hand distractedly.

She was too busy attacking strawberries to care.

"Don’t drown."

Xandros paused.

Then gave her one amused glance before disappearing into the bathroom.

Inside, he stopped dead.

The room looked like it had survived a minor war.

Broken glass glittered on the floor.

A curtain hung half-detached.

The overturned screen floated lazily in the bath.

A towel had somehow landed on the chandelier.

He stared.

Then slowly rubbed his face.

"Unbelievable."

Yet...

he found himself smiling.

He cleaned the room first.

Carefully and Quietly.

Then stepped into the bath.

The warm water soothed muscles he had not realized were tense.

But his thoughts kept drifting back to her.

Her panic.

Her tears.

The way she had run into his arms.

The way her wings had curled around him while she slept.

Dangerous thoughts.

He submerged his head fully.

That did not help.

By the time he returned to the bedroom, dressed only in loose black trousers, his hair still damp and falling messily over his forehead.

Rosaline looked up.

And choked.

Violently.

Tea sprayed everywhere.

Her eyes widened so much he nearly laughed again.

Xandros paused.

"What happened?"

She pointed.

Unable to speak.

His bare chest gleamed faintly with lingering water.

Droplets slid down the hard planes of his stomach.

His shoulders looked broader somehow.

His hair...usually controlled...now curled slightly at the ends.

He looked...

Rosaline swallowed.

Dangerous..... yummy

"You..." she coughed.

"Yes?"

"Why are you half naked?"

Xandros looked down at himself.

Then back at her.

A maddening calm settled over his face.

"This is my room."

Rosaline stared.

That was somehow a valid point.

Which irritated her.

Still coughing, she reached for her tea.

Missed it.

And nearly knocked over the tray.

Xandros caught it before it fell.

Then leaned slightly closer.

His eyes gleamed.

"Careful," he murmured. "You’re making it very obvious."

Rosaline froze.

Her face flamed.

"I don’t know what you mean."

"You do."

"I absolutely do not." Her voice slightly raised this time.

He smiled.

And sat down across from her.

Shamelessly.

Still shirtless.

Rosaline suddenly discovered the wall behind him was fascinating.

Very fascinating.

She refused to look at him again.

Unfortunately...

her wings betrayed her.

The traitorous feather drifted toward him.

And landed directly in his lap.

Xandros looked down.

Then up.

Slowly.

Rosaline wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole.