“Cedric, stop!” Marisol called out, running after Cedric, who was idly walking back to the hidden castle, getting nothing in reply or even in the way of acknowledgment.
She ran until she bumped into him, hearing as he sucked in a sharp breath before turning around ever so slowly.
“Yes, Marisol?” he asked in a tired drawl, and Marisol fought back a confused splutter, blinking.
“What do you mean ‘Yes, Marisol?’! What was that about? What are you doing?”
He looked away, then sighed. “So many questions. Which one do I answer?”
Marisol rolled her eyes impatiently. If Cedric was trying to get on her last nerves, he was doing an impeccable job. “You know exactly what I want to know, Cedric,” she fired back, tone firm. “What happened in there?”
Cedric raised a brow at her, then simply shrugged. “I’m keeping to my end of the bargain. I know not everyone can say the same. And now, I’m going back to my chambers.”
Marisol frowned. “Are you really going to keep using that against me? Plus, do you actually believe that forcing them to apologize is going to cut it?”