And that was about as helpful as my no-shit response.

“Liessa?”

“Hmm?”

“If you keep chewing on your fingers, you won’t have any left.”

I dropped my hand to my lap. “I’m not chewing on my fingers.”

“Little liar,” he murmured.

My eyes narrowed. He had his head bowed and tipped slightly to the side as he wrote in the Book of the Dead. “How would you even know? You’re not even looking at me.”

Ash lowered the quill and lifted his gaze. Wisps of eather spun in eyes that had become heated quicksilver. “I’m always looking at you, liessa.”

A flush hit my skin as I returned my attention to my lessons. Summoning the eather as I stared at the knife, I willed it to lift—

The knife flew into the air, and I swallowed a shout.

Concentration broken, the knife plummeted back down. I leaned forward, catching it before the blade stabbed the innocent table.

I peeked over at Ash. His brow was furrowed, and I was sure I was being a distraction. My attention returned to the table. I’d really wanted the flavored water and had only managed to slice—or smash—two strawberries, so I quickly chopped one up and tossed it into the pitcher with my hands. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have it until next year.

Placing the knife back down, I started to will it back into the air.

“Liessa?”

“Yes?”

“I’m curious,” he said, the quill moving quickly over the page. “Why have you moved on from slaughtering innocent glasses to throwing sharp instruments?”

My lips pursed. “Maybe I thought I would be more comfortable working with a blade.”

He smirked. “How’s that idea working out for you?”

“Just perfect.”

Ash chuckled as he closed the Book of the Dead. The quill vanished into thin air. “Perhaps you should stick to the ledgers and soft, non-pointy items.”

“Perhaps you should mind your business.”

“I would,”—he picked up one of the building plans—“except I am worried that this may end with you having to regrow an eye.” He paused. “Or we’ll end up without glasses to drink from.”

I sighed. “Like I said before, maybe I’m faulty.”

“You know, the more I think about it, the more I realize you might have a point.”

My eyes narrowed as I pictured the knife flying through the parchment he held.

Ash’s hand snapped up, catching the knife by the hilt right before it pierced the cream parchment. He slowly turned his head to me. “I assume you meant to do that.”

I smiled broadly. “I did.”

“Then what was different this time?” he asked.

“You annoyed me.”

“Other than that.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I wasn’t…”

“Overthinking it?”

“Shut up,” I muttered.

He grinned and placed the knife on the table. “I will, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re overthinking.”

He was right.

Whatever.

“Can I have my knife back?”

“I’m not sure you will behave yourself with it,” he replied.

My lips parted.

Ash smiled as he turned his attention back to the plans.

I returned to moving the glasses around for a few more minutes, spilling some water and stopping one from flying off the table.

“Can I have the knife back now?” I asked.

“Nope.”

I lifted my hand, and the blade flew off his desk, handle first. I easily caught it.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You weren’t—”

“If you say overthinking it one more time,” I warned, pointing the blade at him.

Ash just grinned, and honestly, why wouldn’t he? I was threatening him with a paltry paring knife.

I sighed. “I miss my dagger.”

In the next several minutes, I finally stopped overthinking things. I managed to lift several strawberries and plop them into the glass of water before my attention shifted to the bare shelves as I wondered what could be placed on them. Ash wasn’t the type to be into glass figurines as my stepfather had been. “You need knickknacks.”

Ash half-laughed. “What?”

“Knickknacks,” I repeated. “You know, small objects that are worthless to some but are something you enjoy.”

“I know what knickknacks are, liessa.” He looked up from the building plans. “What I don’t know is why you’re suggesting them.”

“Your shelves are bare.” I pointed at the walls. “My stepfather collected things made of spun glass. Or is it blown glass?” My nose scrunched. “Maybe they’re the same thing.”

“I don’t believe so.” Ash paused, looking to the side at the walls. “I never really thought about the shelves.”

“I can tell,” I replied dryly, taking a drink of the now-fruit-flavored water. “We’ll have to get you some knickknacks.”

“I’ll add that to the list of things we must accomplish.”

I looked at him with a frown. “We have a list?”

“We do.” Rising, he set aside the building plans and returned the Book of the Dead to its drawer. “Speak with Attes. Summon the Primals. Plant more crops. Deal with Kolis. Spit on his close-to-dead-as-possible body.” He ticked each item off as he walked around the desk, my brow rising with each item. “Rule the realms.”

“That’s an…impressive list,” I slowly stated.

“I wasn’t done.”

“Oh.”

“We also have to decide where we wish to live—here or in Dalos,” he continued. I blinked, not having even considered a relocation. “Indulge in radek wine—”

“The kind that makes…”

“One incredibly aroused for extended periods of time?” A wolfish grin appeared. “Yes.”

“Oh,” I repeated. “I think I would like that.”

Icy heat swirled in his eyes as he sat beside me on the light gray settee. “You will love it, liessa.”

My gaze swept over his powerful body. I would be obsessed with that.

He glanced at the table that had been brought in for our breakfast. The heat faded from his stare. “Fates,” he muttered, dragging a hand over his jaw.

“What?”

“What you’re drinking,” he said. “Or what you’ve made yourself. I completely forgot about this until now, but…”

“Your father used to do this,” I finished for him.

His head cut to me. “How did you—?” He let out a soft laugh. “Foresight?”

It wasn’t the vadentia but Kolis who had told me, but I smiled and nodded as I quickly looked away. I could feel his stare on me.

“It wasn’t the vadentia, was it? It was Kolis.” A moment passed. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?”

I blew out a breath as I lifted a shoulder. “I just don’t think it matters, and I don’t want him to be associated with you remembering something about your father.”

“It’s kind of hard for him not to be associated with thoughts of my father, liessa.” He reached over and tucked a curl back from my face. “But I do appreciate the consideration.”

I relaxed. “It’s pretty tasty. You should try it.”

“I will.” His attention shifted back to the table. “Are you finished eating?”

“Yep.”

His brows furrowed. “You barely ate.”

“Not true.” I took another drink.

“You only ate half the eggs. Maybe a bite of the muffin.” He picked up the napkin I’d tossed over a side dish, revealing the strips of fried meat. “And you didn’t even touch the bacon.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I guess I’m not that hungry.”

“That’s odd.” Ash’s frown deepened.

“What? Not being hungry?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back and looked at me. “After an Ascension, one is typically hungrier than normal because the body is still going through changes. A lot of energy is expended.”

“Oh,” I said, cradling the glass to my chest. “Maybe I’m different because I was mortal.”

“Maybe.” His gaze tracked over my features. “When Kolis had you, was food restricted?”

I jerked, caught off guard by his question. “No. Food was provided. A lot of it.” My hold on the glass tightened. “You think me not being hungry has to do with my time in Dalos?”

“Kolis has been known to use food as a form of reward and punishment,” he said, and my stomach dropped. “I didn’t know if that was the case with you.”