Page 81 of The Last Syphon

It was fucking dead silent. Prince Walder had not spoken a word since entering the room. Inara had realised, after spending the first half of the day in his presence, that the man rarely spoke.

She did not like silence.

“Why are we eating together?” In her lap was her own plate of food. It was identical to that of the prince’s, and it was the nicest meal she’d ever eaten.

Prince Walder’s eyes flicked to her before returning to the scroll in his hand. “You are my personal Shielder.”

He said it as if that simple sentence answered her question.

It did not.

“And?”

“And that means in order to fulfil your duties, you must be with your assigned Charge.”

“All the time?”

“Yes.”

“Every second of every day?”

“From dawn until dusk.”

She slouched, twisting her lips. Inara wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but she had assumed there would be periods where they separated. Had their own space. Did he always have to have someone with him? Could he do nothing on his own? Inara did not want to think about what it was going to be like when he had to relieve himself. Would she be required to come in and hold it for him too?

She snorted out a laugh at the thought.

Prince Walder’s gaze flicked to her once more. “What?”

“Nothing.”

The prince narrowed his eyes before returning to the scroll again. He picked up a fork, skewered a piece of meat, and placed it into his mouth, eating quietly.

The silence returned.

Inara sighed. “If I am to be forced to be here, the least you can do is engage in conversation.”

His brows creased. “Conversation?”

“Yes. Conversation. You know, interactive communication between two or more parties.”

He rolled his eyes. “I am aware of the definition.”

“Well, you asked as if you were not.”

“Because I was confused. Not because I did not know what the word meant.”

“Why would you be confused? Did you and Larissa never talk?”

“No.” He placed the scroll down, picked up a quill, scribbled something down on it, and placed it on a pile off to the side before picking up another. Inara waited for him to elaborate, but he said nothing else.

She popped a potato into her mouth. “What do you mean, no?”

“No is a word used to express disagreement, denial, or refusal.”

“Oh, very funny.” It actually was, which surprised Inara once again. She did not think the prince had a sense of humour. “You’re telling me you ate lunch together every day for seven years, and during that time, you never spoke to each other? Not once?”

“What is there to discuss?”