It is Rexford. He sits up from his bed and looks at us. "Just accept the man's feelings, Lyrica," he says, his arms crossed on his chest. "Besides, this is the side effect of giving your blood to a vampire. They get all mushy like that."
"I'm not in love with him, and I don't think that I—"
"He's clearly saying that it's alright with him," he adds. "Oh, how romantically challenged are you?!"
"What?!"
"You're easily exploitable but don't want to exploit others," he says. "That's a bad and toxic combination."
"Can you hear yourself, Rexford?!"
"He's offering everything to you; to serve you," he says, ignoring what I said and continues, "That means that he also wants to become one of your male consorts once you ascend to being the Queen. Just fucking accept him."
"Are you serious?!" I exclaim, completely taken aback by his suggestion.
"Absolutely," he replies.
