Chapter Fifty Seven
"What is going on here?"
Kaelen's voice cut through the room, sharp and alert.
I looked up just as his eyes flicked between Lady Elena and me, assessing the distance between us, the half-empty glass of water in her hand, the faint redness around her eyes.
"Did I perhaps disturb you both?" he asked carefully.
Elena bolted upright as if the couch had suddenly turned into hot coals. "Not at all, Sir Kaelen!" she squeaked, her face flushing a shade of crimson that rivaled the velvet curtains. She smoothed her dress with frantic, shaky hands, looking ready to dive out the window to escape the awkwardness.
"I was just leaving."
Weren't we still talking about her problem? Why are women so confusing?
"Wait a second, Lady Elena," I sighed, raising a hand to stall her before I turned my gaze to Kaelen, who was still wearing an expression that sat somewhere between suspicion and second-hand embarrassment. "What did you come here for, Kaelen?"
