Chapter 411: A Rhetorical Question
Lyria's POV
"Stop l-laughing," I said, though I could not quite keep the smile from my own voice.
He made a genuine attempt.
"I shall try," he said, but the laughter did not stop. It continued to spill out of him, his hand pressed against his stomach as though the effort of containing it were genuinely painful.
There was something particularly infuriating about the fact that he did not even appear ashamed of himself.
I huffed and turned away from him, moving toward the bed where the cat sat regarding the proceedings with its customary air of complete indifference to everything that did not directly concern it. I reached down and gathered it into my arms, and it melted against me at once, its body relaxing as though it had been waiting for precisely this invitation.
I rubbed my hand through its soft black fur, grateful for the fact that it would not laugh at me.
