Rexton shivers.
I clear my throat before continuing. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you. I have trouble controlling my anger, but it’s not usually this bad. Things have been…”
I trail off, not sure I want to continue. Rexton was vulnerable with me, and it’s only fair that I be vulnerable with him in return. Doing so is terrifying, though, and it’s not something I’m familiar with. I usually try to avoid it as much as possible.
“Things have been what?” Rexton asks. He spins around, facing me.
I frown. “Things have been complicated since I returned from Greed. I’m not talking much to my parents, and I feel like a failure. I’m nervous that everybody else feels the same way, that they’re judging me for failing to murder Mammon. I’ve been taking my anger out on you, and I’m sorry.”
Rexton purses his lips. What’s he thinking? I shouldn’t have said all that. It was too much.
“I appreciate your apology,” he starts. He pushes my wet hair out of my face. “And I don’t think you’re a failure. Nobody does. If anything, they’re impressed you even tried.”
“People don’t like me.”
“You don’t let people know you.”
I shift my weight from foot to foot. “They wouldn’t like me even if they did.”
Rexton doesn’t immediately respond, and my thoughts almost immediately begin to spiral. Is he judging me for admitting my insecurities? I’m supposed to be a strong, unfazed leader. If people knew how insecure I was, they’d question my leadership skills.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I don’t agree,” Rexton finally admits. “You shut everybody out, and people sense that. They avoid you because you’ve made it clear that’s what you want from them.”
I shrug.
Rexton chews on his bottom lip. “I want to know you, Cassia.” He spins me around and nudges me back into the shower. “Are you going to let me know you?”
I shrug again.
He chuckles. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Black.”
He’s careful to avoid getting hit with the shower spray as he pours an ungodly amount of shampoo into his palm, and I obediently tilt my head back as he begins washing my hair. I don’t have much faith that my hair can be saved, but I’m not one to pass up a head massage.
“I like blue,” he continues. “What do you do to unwind?”
Rexton rubs my scalp and matted mess of hair, working the shampoo in the best he can, while I think of a response. Dirt-covered suds trail down my torso and pool at my feet before disappearing down the drain.
“I enjoy eating out and taking long showers,” I say. “Sometimes I start puzzles, but they often frustrate me and I rarely finish.”
Rexton guides my head under the water, then gets to work with conditioner and a wide-toothed comb.
“What about you?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. I’m still adjusting to life in Wrath, and I haven’t found anything I love doing just yet.”
“Have you been having a lot of sex?” The question is out of my mouth before I think better of it. Maybe I don’t want to know.
“I have not.” Rexton snorts. “I haven’t been with anybody since returning to Wrath.”
“And before that?”
A moment of silence, then, “I was expected to consummate my marriage to Princess Amelia, but it was clinical. Prior to her, it’s been years. Sex lost its glamor a long time ago, and it isn’t something I’ve been seeking out.”
I don’t know how to feel about that.
