Aire unexpectedly winced.
The sound was barely noticeable yet Lysander noticed it immediately.
He stopped walking, and his grip loosened around her wrist.
"My wrist," Aire said quietly. "It hurts."
His eyes dropped instantly.
The faint amusement lingering on his face vanished.
Purple veins spread beneath her skin where the vines had been wrapped too tightly. The bruising looked worse than it had a few moments ago.
Lysander frowned.
Without a word, he changed direction.
Aire immediately recognized the route he now took. She sighed softly as she followed him without protest to his room.
The moment they entered, Lysander released her wrist.
"Wash up." He ordered her.
Aire opened her mouth. "No." She refused. Absentmindedly, she realized 'no' have become her most used word since she came I to this realm.
"Yes." Lysander countered.
"No."
"Yes."
Aire glared at him.
