Samantha walked out of the room she was given with the help of one of the maids, one slow step at a time. Her ankle still ached, but not as sharply as before, thanks to the bandages and ointment Darian had used. It seemed to have worked. The maid, a girl no older than her mid-twenties, held her arm gently with her head down.
She didn't know who Samantha was and from the way Darian personally took care of her, she could tell she wasn't just anyone. So she kept her head down as she held Samantha. She knew she could lose her job if she didn't. Samantha might not prompt it, but she guessed from Darian's cold demeanor he could.
The moment Samantha stepped out into the hallway, the scent hit her, warm, savoury, slightly buttery with something like herbs and garlic. She blinked. It smelled… really good. So good that her mouth watered.
Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Darian really cooks?
