When I open them again, Daciana sits with her arms crossed, unreadable. The silence stretches between us, heavy with judgment I probably deserve.
Eventually, she sighs. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
Relief floods through me. I click the pen, eager to write. “What’s her favorite flower?”
Daciana blinks at me. “Her favorite flower?”
“Yes. Zane brought her—” I stop myself, realizing what I’m about to reveal. The mission is supposed to be secret. “Just answer the question.”
“Peonies,” Daciana says slowly, watching me interestedly. “She loves peonies. Says they remind her of home. Her mother used to grow them in their garden.”
I write it down, my handwriting cramped but legible. “What color?”
“Pink, I think? Or white. Maybe both.” Daciana takes a bite of her food, chewing thoughtfully. “You really don’t know anything about her, do you?”
The observation stings because it’s true, but I don’t let it show. “That’s why I’m here. What does she like to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
“Tea. Chamomile at night, something with mint during the day.” Daciana leans forward slightly, a look of pity crossing her features. “She doesn’t like coffee. Says it makes her jittery.”
I scribble faster, questions tumbling out now that I’ve started. “Food preferences?”
“She likes anything with honey. Sweet things in general, but not overly sweet. Fruit tarts are her favorite dessert. And she’s obsessed with these little almond pastries from Moonstone Bakery inthe capital.”
“Near the east gate?”
“That’s the one.” Daciana observes me with open curiosity now, her meal temporarily forgotten.
“What else? Books? Music? What does she do when she’s not working?”
Daciana sighs, but she’s cooperating now, the information flowing more easily. “She reads constantly. Loves stories about adventure, faraway places. Nothing too dark or heavy—she gets enough of that dealing with injuries at the healers’ compound. She likes soft music, things she can hum along to. And lately…” She pauses, her tone becoming more thoughtful. “Lately, she’s been asking me to help her train. Sparring, strengthening her wolf. It’s a recent thing. For some reason, she has become overly conscious of how weak her wolf is.”
I look up from my notes, pen frozen mid-word. Selene, asking for combat training? Worried about her wolf’s strength? It’s because of what I said to her. Because I made her feel like she was inadequate.
I force myself to keep writing, though my hand is heavier now. “How often?”
“A few times a week, whenever we can both spare the time.” Daciana’s voice softens. “She works hard, Commander. Pushes herself until she’s shaking with exhaustion. It’s like she’s trying to prove something.”
I nod, guilt twisting my insides. She’s trying to prove she’s not weak. Trying to prove me wrong.
I write furiously, filling the page with details I should have learned months ago. “Does she have a favorite spot in the palace? Somewhere she goes to be alone?”
“There’s a bench near the lily pond in the east gardens. She goes there sometimes when she wants quiet.” Daciana pauses, her tone gentling. “I’ve seen her there a lot lately.”
“What about her daily schedule?” I ask.
Daciana sets down her fork, her gaze sharpening. Is this where she draws the line? “Why are you asking me? Just ask her yourself.”
“Because she’s avoiding me,” I say bluntly. “And I need to know when and where I can find her without her running away.”
A long silence stretches between us. Daciana examines me carefully, and finally, she sighs.
“She only works late shifts at the infirmary now. Usually from sunset until dawn. During the day, when she’s not with Zane or me, she’s either sleeping or in the gardens.” Her voice softens. “Selene is exhausted, Commander. She’s running herself into the ground.”
I take a deep breath and close the notepad, the pen suddenly heavy in my hand.
“Anything else I should know?” I ask quietly.
Daciana hesitates, then leans forward. “She deserves someone who sees her for who she is. Not someone who needs to take notes about basic things about their mate.”
