Claire's POV
I was so stunned at his act that I couldn't help but let my thoughts run wild. What happened to the cold and distant man I once knew? Was this some elaborate joke? Or had he finally lost his mind?
I suppressed the urge to reach over and check his forehead for signs of fever—or worse, to crack his head open and search for some faulty wiring in his brain—and lowered myself into the chair cautiously as my eyes never left his face.
Evander, however, remained calm, almost too calm, as if this was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. I couldn't tell if I wanted to laugh at the absurdity or cry about it. Either way, I stayed silent, unsure of what to make of this new version of him.
"What would you like to have?" Evander asked as his gaze shifted over the varieties of dishes on the table. "Today, I will serve you myself."
