"Did I wake you?" Zayden's voice was soft, almost like a greeting—something Ren wasn't used to.
"…My Lord?"
With a snap of his fingers, Zayden lit the candle on the night table beside the bed. The flickering flame cast light across the young man's face.
Having barely seen him before, Ren couldn't help but stare. A thin white robe clung loosely to his frame, the fabric doing little to hide the contours of muscle beneath. Even in the dim glow, with so little light to catch on, his features were undeniably beautiful.
But can a man be beautiful?
"May I sit?"
Ren looked up—the question was unexpected. Hesitantly, he nodded. He should have been the one to stand, greet him.
But… Why is he here?
Did the General want to discuss something? Was he going to dismiss him for disturbing the banquet earlier? Or for neglecting his duties because he was too consumed by the question of how Zayden had come to possess his anklet?
