It was nearly time for dinner. Caius hated how aware he was of this. There was still some time, but if he wanted to see his father and make it to Rose immediately after dinner, he had to leave now.
He didn't want to, but Rose wouldn't forget to ask, and even if she didn't say anything rude, she wouldn't be pleased. Why did he care about whether she was pleased or not? But this was an irrelevant question, as he already knew the answer.
So he slammed his hand on his desk as if to punish the table for his problems, even though it couldn't possibly do anything to worsen or better them. After that, he marched out of his study with a grim look on his face. The guards positioned around his study gave a stiffer bow as he passed them.
Caius frowned as he approached the King's floors. The wing wasn't any different than usual; after all, their meals were always held about a floor above, but the King's floor was deserted.
