She then let out a small sigh, her eyes dropping from his face down to his hands. "Besides, you should really look at someone who clearly hates omelettes."
Julian froze. He looked down at his plate. He had been eating the omelette out of pure habit, but it was absolutely true—he utterly hated them. Because of his royal upbringing, he had been taught from childhood that he had to finish everything on his plate without complaining, so he always forced it down. No one in his entire life, not even his own family, had ever guessed his secret aversion.
He swallowed hard, looking back up at her. "And why do you think so, my lady?"
Elara looked at his stunned face, and a tiny, rare smile touched her lips.
"Well," she said softly, "you can just say that I am quite perceptive."
With that, Elara methodically wiped her hands and her mouth with the linen cloth, setting it down neatly on the table before standing up.
