Rowan watched Celeste close the door, taking longer than he intended to look away.
She wore a plain cream blouse and a black skirt. Her pale-gold hair was tied back with a ribbon, leaving a few loose strands beside her cheeks. Without the embroidered gown and the soldiers waiting on her every word, she looked much closer to his age.
She really was beautiful.
Then she caught him looking, and he hurriedly stepped away from the window.
"Saintess."
"How are you settling in?"
It had been two days since they arrived from the Northern Carpathian Front. Rowan had learned where the dining room was, which corridor led to the garden, and when the maids came to change his sheets. He had spent most of that time in this room.
"It's comfortable here. Thank you."
Celeste approached the tray on the table.
"Is the food not to your liking?"
"No. It's good."
She looked at the few bites missing from the meal.
