A faint knock echoes throughout your room, and you’re barely a moment to respond before a tall, red-headed man opens your bedroom door. Felix, your bodyguard of about a month, holds a platter balanced atop his palm.

“Any reason you wanted me specifically to bring your food? You could’ve gotten it yourself, you know.” His words are annoyingly nonchalant, a tone you’re all too accustomed to. His golden eyes study you with inquisitive intent, feeling almost analytical.