Azael walked back to his room with his hands in his pockets and his thoughts going in three different directions at once.
He replayed it again without meaning to.
The closeness. The cool palm against his cheek. The way she had stopped herself mid-sentence like she had caught something before it fell.
That one unguarded second in her eyes before the door closed again.
He couldn't make sense of it.
'She was teasing,' he told himself. 'That's all it was. She did that and feels nothing after. But...she's teasing...it's very weird. She's not that kind of person.
He almost believed it. He pushed open the door to his room, stepped inside, and sat on the edge of the bed.
The room was large and well-appointed, the guest chamber that reminded you quietly and constantly that you were in a palace. High ceilings. Heavy curtains pulled back from tall windows. A fire burning low in the hearth.
He stared at the floor for a while.
