Loreen's POV
Loreen picked up his trousers and slipped them on, almost losing his balance when he put in the wrong leg. He groaned under his breath, annoyed with himself, and grabbed the edge of the bed to steady himself.
He looked over at Marsden, who was watching him with an amused look that made his irritation worse.
"Shouldn't you be helping me get dressed?" Loreen asked. "Isn't that your responsibility?"
Marsden shrugged lightly. "I would have," he said, "but someone does not want me close to him, so I am minding my own business."
Loreen rolled his eyes and let out a quiet breath. That was true. If he wanted help, there were servants ready to attend to him at any moment. But he preferred his space. Always had. He did not like people hovering around him, touching his things, watching too closely.
And more than that, privacy mattered. Too much attention would only make things harder to hide, and damn he had a lot to hide, especially his preference to men.
