Page 19 of Empire of Dark

“Try my potatoes.”

I scooped out a big forkful, eating them as I stared at her.

“And the asparagus.”

I repeated the motion with the vegetable.

Her mouth quirked to the side as she stared at me, clearly waiting for me to start foaming at the mouth. When I didn’t, she dove into her food, downing every morsel like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Granted, my chef was phenomenal. But the women that came through the castle were usually more demure at the table. Keeping up the pretense of picking at their food, pretending they were never hungry. Distorted human ideals about how women should act had long ago bled into the panthenite-malefic worlds.

Not so with Ada. She ate fast and ferocious.

“You like food.”

She looked up at me, her eyebrows pulling together. “Should I not like food? Your chef is amazing. I’m accustomed to the food at the Academy, which is made for the mass of students with lots of protein, instead of being curated beautifully on a plate like this is—was.” She looked down at her plate, finding it empty and I could swear I heard the smallest whimper come from her mouth.

I picked up my plate and held it over hers, sliding my asparagus and potatoes onto her plate. But the duck, I’d already eaten. Itwasdelicious.

There was plenty more food in the kitchens, but the staff knew not to interrupt me after serving a meal.

Her eyes widened with the gesture and she stared at me a moment, as though she was determined to figure me out. Like I didn’t fit the exact mold of what she’d expected when she came here.

In a flash, her inspection was over and she dove into the rest of the food. I poured myself another glass of wine, sipping it as she ate.

“At the panthenite academy—do you have a favorite meal there?”

She looked up, chewing on asparagus as her eyes narrowed at me. “Because you would like to slip a roofie into something you know I’ll eat without you proving it’s safe?”

I chuckled. “Because I’m curious. Nothing more.”

“Fine. Then the only thing that I really love foodwise at the Academy are the chocolate glazed donuts.”

I laughed. “They have donuts at the Academy?”

“They do.” Her nose wrinkled at the mirth on my face. “What? I grew up in America, so yes, I like donuts. Especially chocolate glazed ones. No sprinkles or frosting. I sweet-talkedthe main cook at the Academy, Ruddy, to start making them fifty or so years ago.”

“Hmm. Donuts. I never would have guessed.” I chuckled again.

“No.” She waved her fork at me. “Don’t you dare even think about trying to make me feel bad for liking donuts. They’re delicious. Everyone at the Academy loves them. But they know not to steal from my allotment.”

My hand came up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to judge.”

“But you did—are.”

My shoulders lifted. “Well…donuts.”

Her eyes went to the celling and she continued to jab at her food. “Well…how about you? What’s your favorite food?”

I paused, my eyebrows crinkled together. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“I don’t believe that.”

I shook my head. “No. I tend to think about other people’s favorites, not my own.”

“Why?”

“Because it helps me deal with them.”

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