“Cassian strode in, a tray of food in hand, and halted when he didn't find her on the bed. His eyes shot to the sunken pool, and she could have sworn he almost dropped the tray onto the white carpet. 'I... You.'

His loss of words was enough to pull her from her thoughts, to curve the corners of her mouth upward. 'Me?'

He shook his head like a wet dog. 'I bought some food. I assumed you'd want dinner.'

'There's no dining room?'

'There is, but I thought you might need to unwind.'

She surveyed him, surprised that he knew her well enough to guess that the thought of speaking to everyone again, of dressing in suitable clothes, was draining- miserable. Knew her well enough to grasp that she'd rather eat in her room and piece herself together.”