Page 291 of Ashen Torment

“And where do I place, in all of this?”

“In my judgment?” I let the corner of my mouth curve. “You have an excellent spot among the damned.”

He stands up abruptly.

My chair jolts back with a sharp noise.

“I was joking.”

Dorian looks down at me, an oblique smile that the candles turn razor-sharp.

“If you are there as well,” he says quietly, “I am certain it won’t be an unpleasant place to end up at all.”

I can feel my ears burning.

“You always say such nonsense...”

He opens his mouth to reply, but I break off a piece of bread and shove it in front of him. He takes it without resistance, chewing it with a barely veiled surprise.

“It seems you take a liking to whatever I put in your mouth.”

He stares at me, then lowers his gaze between my legs. I push myself slightly further back. I hear him sigh.

“Eat, Evander.”

In the silence that follows, my thoughts wander and the words come out on their own.

“I never much liked it before, but... my father always brought chocolate back from his travels.”

He pins his eyes on me.

I do not know why I’m talking, yet I continue, the words pour out as if they simply must.

“Once, he brought me an entire box. He had returned late from a concert in Paris. I couldn’t sleep, I was waiting up for him. He entered my room as soon as he arrived. He sat on my bed with his clothes still damp and told me that good flavors should be eaten at night. That they keep one company.”

He watches me as I speak, his lips slightly parted, his attention weighs on me like a hand on my chest.

Breaking off another piece of bread, I offer it to him. He takes it and brings it to his mouth. I lift my gaze slightly and hold his.

“His name was Adrian.”

It is strange to say it out loud. The first time I have named my father to anyone other than Richard or Nathaniel.

His fingers brush my knuckles with delicacy. I watch him, trying to decipher the intimacy of that contact. I don’t know if I want to welcome it or if it makes me uneasy.

“It was a habit we had formed,” I continue quietly. “One of the few moments I truly managed to be close to him, without having to say or do anything.”

“It must have been important to you.”

“It was,” I admit. “In those minutes, he was truly there. Not just as a shadow or an idea, but as a real presence. No expectations, no judgments. Just the two of us.”

I distractedly scratch the surface of the table.

“Even if... it didn’t last long, to be honest.”

Dorian tilts his head slightly. “Why?”

I don’t look at him, my gaze fixed on the ash in the embers.