[Meredith].
We took one more turn, the double doors to the dining hall coming into view.
Even before we arrived, the servants standing near the entrance straightened, bowing deeply.
If they noticed anything unusual, maybe my flushed cheeks, the faint fragrance of sex still clinging to my skin, no matter how hard I pretended otherwise. But at least they had the decorum not to stare openly.
But the moment I lifted my head again, Oscar Elrod was standing inside the dining hall, and he didn't pretend.
He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing with an assessing, hawk-like precision usually reserved for threats, not for tired, freshly-bathed Lunas recovering from very enthusiastic lovemaking.
I almost tripped.
Oscar didn't sniff the air like Dennis. He didn't smirk or comment. He simply looked and knew. That was it.
Then his gaze flicked from me to Draven, then back to me, and then he slowly blinked.
As if saying, "You two really didn't waste any time."
