Bella's POV
The last time I prepared that oatmeal, it was purely to mess with Caspian. I never imagined he'd actually request it again.
After weighing my options, I reminded myself that I couldn't bite the hand that feeds me.
I approached Caspian cautiously. "Your Highness, if you're feeling too unwell to handle heavy meals, maybe you should consider something lighter. Oatmeal probably isn't your best option..."
My voice faded as guilt washed over me more intensely.
If I'd known this would happen, I never would have played that trick on Caspian, I thought with regret.
Caspian's gaze found mine, and I caught something unexpected—a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "What would you recommend instead, Bella?"
I shifted uncomfortably under his stare.
Something in Caspian's usual cold mask seemed to crack, like ice breaking apart in spring, letting through a warmth I'd never seen before.
His mouth curved upward in what could only be described as a smile.
