Page 12 of Exile

“Mom’s pretty creative. You can call me Wynnie, though.”

“Hm.” His eyes didn’t leave my face. “And you’re strange looking, too.”

I raised a brow. “Excuse you?”

He scoffed as if I had been the one saying something rude about his appearance, and he waved a hand before turning back around to head inside. “Take off your shoes.”

“You just called me ugly!”

My feelings were slightly hurt.

“I didnotcall you ugly. Close the door on your way in.”

I stepped inside hesitantly, shutting the door behind me as Caspian’s deep voice ordered. The house was dimly lit, the curtains mostly drawn, but the faint smell of coffee and woodsmoke gave the place an oddly homey vibe. The furniture was mismatched and well-worn, and books and papers were scattered on nearly every surface.

It looked as if he kept busy.

Not in a way I thought he would.

Caspian didn’t wait for me to catch up to him. He stopped into the living room and dropped into the sagging armchair, gesturing vaguely toward the couch. “Sit. Talk. Whatever this is, make it quick.”

I sat down on the edge of the couch, my nerves still buzzing. Caspian’s sharp eyes were fixed on me, waiting, but his posture was casual, almost lazy, like he didn’t want to give me the satisfaction of knowing he cared at all about why I was there.

“You sure are strange looking.”

Again?

Damn, Grandpa.

“How so?” I asked, not allowing myself to critique how I looked.

He studied me again, his eyes narrowing for a split second. He lifted his hand, waving it at me. “The eyes…”

“Heterochromia,” I explained.

“I know what heterochromia is.”

“Then why are you acting like you’ve seen it for the first time?” I challenged.

He didn’t react to that. He kept on studying me. “And the freckles. Strange pattern,” he stated.

Because my freckles were only scattered on the right side of my face. The side on which my brown eye was.

“I’m aware.”

“Beautiful.”

My jaw dropped, and his eyes widened.

He didn’t mean to say that out loud.

But after the initial shock, it made me feel some type of way.

“Thank you.”

He cleared his throat and adjusted his posture. “So,” he said, his tone flat. “What’s this about? Why are you herenow?”

The emphasis was on now.

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