"I'm dead… I'm so dead…!"
Jasmine paced the room, anxiety written all over her face as she repeated the words again and again.
Azriel, a cloth draped over his bare shoulders, lounged against the headboard with a plate of cookies in his lap, watching her with mild amusement. After more than half an hour of the same circuit, he finally spoke.
"Don't you think you're overreacting a bit? Where did all those years of etiquette lessons go? Calm down. Do you want one of my cookies?"
He held out a half-bitten cookie. Jasmine stopped, crossed her arms, and shot him a glare.
"I don't want your cookies! You're the one who hasn't eaten properly all this time—eat them yourself before you starve to death!"
Azriel blinked at the scolding—sharp words wrapped in concern. In the end, he pulled the cookie back, took another bite, and chewed contentedly.
"What am I going to do…? When Dad finds out you were in the Forest of Eternity, he'll—he'll be furious…"
