Astraea's POV
I sat at the far end of the long table, with my elbows resting on the surface and my fingers locked together to keep from doing something dramatic, like flipping the whole thing over just to show how truly annoyed I was.
My eyes stayed fixed on Therion, who sat across from me like this was just another day in the palace. He was looking way too casual and unbothered for my liking with that same arrogant and unreadable expression plastered across his face, like he didn't notice the heat rising off me in waves.
He was dressed too perfectly, too clean for someone I had dragged here mid-afternoon, and the light filtering through the windows only made him look more smug.
The worst part? He wasn't even trying to pretend to care. He leaned back in the chair, keeping his arms folded and one leg crossed over the other, like I'd summoned him to chat about the weather.
