Hours passed like seconds, though Ruelle couldn't say for sure. Not in this room. Not in the dim, wavering circle of the lantern's light, where time seemed to have stopped moving altogether.
Ezekiel had taken a seat on the opposite chair and he watched her without blinking. The weight of his gaze was a physical thing, pressing against her skin, crawling over her face and her hands and her throat. It was taxing on her mind in a way she hadn't known a gaze could be. She couldn't relax.
And every time her eyes met his, the more empty they looked. As if she were looking at a person who didn't have a soul.
"Are you sleepy, Ruelle?" Ezekiel asked. There was a barely hidden eagerness in his voice, of a man waiting to carry her to bed.
"No," she said, and the word came out flatter than she intended. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "But I want to relieve myself."
