A line formed between Zyran's brows when Mila moved back, almost losing her balance. The girl's face paled as if she had seen a ghost.
Ignoring the girl and her theatrics, Zyran wiped his face with the towel and walked over to Mila and the cat.
Thinking he was coming to her, Mila picked herself up and returned to the dining table, licking the food off her hand that she had intended to feed the cat.
Zyran raised one brow, his lips slightly upturned. Reaching his cat, he picked it up.
"I don't feed him those," he muttered, petting the furry animal to get a purr from it.
Mila wasn't listening, nor was she looking at Zyran. Her ears and face had turned pale pink from blushing the moment Zyran entered the room.
What is he doing at home?! was all Mila could scream in her mind. She had felt more comfortable knowing he wasn't around. How were they supposed to act around each other after he had su—
"Umberto," Zyran's voice was heard.
The butler bowed. "Yes, Master Zyran?"
