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"YOU CAN'T avoid him forever, child."
I glare down at the cheetah standing beside me. "I know."
"Do you think he hasn't noticed?" Nyssa continues almost scoldingly. "He's hardly taken his eyes off of you all evening."
I purse my lips in annoyance, grabbing another toreino square to sate my urge to argue. The caramel and tender custard does its job, smoothing the sharp words creeping up my throat.
"There aren't going to be any desserts left if you continue to stand here all night."
I glance over my shoulder at Caspian, who wears a terribly satirical expression as he approaches us.
I shrug, unbothered by his teasing. "They're made to be eaten, aren't they?"
"Eaten, not devoured."
I grab another one, holding it up as I meet his gaze. "This is what's saving you from getting stabbed right now," I tell the king, popping the dessert into my mouth. I can't count how many I've eaten tonight in order to keep myself from snapping an angry response at Nyssa's prodding.
"Ah, so I should be grateful."
"You should find her someone to dance with, is what you should do," Nyssa interjects sourly. "Preferably a king."
Surprised, Caspian glances between the two of us. "Edmund?" He questions, lifting a toreino to his mouth. "What for?"
I roll my eyes, muttering irritably, "this is why I'm at the dessert table."
"She's avoiding him," the cheetah explains.
Caspian licks the residual caramel off his fingers, switching his attention back to me. "Why? Did something happen?"
"It's complicated," I sigh. "I am going to talk to him, I just need a little more time." I can read the worry in his eyes, so I add firmly, "I'm fine, Cas. I swear."
"Good." He grins, sticking a hand out toward me. "Because I was hoping you would dance with me."
I laugh and slide my hand into his open palm. "You just need a refresher before you dance with Susan," I point out, following him away from the dessert table to the large, open floor.
Caspian shrugs, feigning innocence. "Maybe I do. You look beautiful, by the way."
"Thank you." I fold down the back of his tunic collar with a smile, noticing that it lifted up. "You look pretty, too. Is your neck sore yet?"
The king shoots me a look of surprise, maneuvering to join the row of dancers as they approach the edge of the floor. "How did you know?"
I snort, eyeballing the large, golden crown resting atop his head. "Looking at it makes my neck sore."
