As she moved toward the bed, the door creaked open, and Lyle stepped inside. He was dressed simply in a white shirt and pants, his presence as composed as ever. Behind him, a maid pushed in a serving cart laden with food and a steaming teapot. The maid bowed silently before retreating, leaving the two of them alone.
Lyle's gaze swept over her, his lips quirking in approval at the sight of her in his clothes.
"You must be hungry," he remarked, retrieving the tray and setting it on the bedside table. "I asked the maids to prepare something for you."
Eira crossed her arms and shot him a glare. "I'm sure that's not all you asked them to do. Apparently, they can't tell the difference between a dress and pajamas."
"They suit you," he replied calmly, ignoring her irritation as he handed her a glass of water.
Eira took it with a huff, sipping cautiously. "You're impossible, you know that?"
