“No.” I shook my head. “Not unless you can give me answers about my real parents.”

The look on Lincoln’s face when I said the word real was almost as if I had stabbed her in the heart. I had spent all my life believing that she hadn’t cared for me, and seeing her reaction made me wonder if she actually did care after all and had just pretended not to. I quickly brushed that thought away, though. If she cared, she wouldn’t have made my life miserable by picking a fight every chance she could get.

Still, I felt bad for hurting her. Whatever happened in the past, Lincoln and Hawke had spent eighteen years of their life protecting me. They could’ve had their own lives instead of putting them on hold. A thought came up and I knew how I could make it up to her for now.

“Do you want to go to the Ambrosias’ for dinner with me? Kris just called. They’ve invited us over to their place at the Royal Quarters.”

Lincoln blinked. She had probably expected another harsh statement. “Sure. I’ll let your father—I mean, I’ll let Hawke know.”

“Okay.” Well, that wasn’t difficult. At least I wouldn’t have to spend alone time with Vlad now. I pushed myself up from the bed and texted Kris to let her know that I didn’t need Vlad to babysit me after all.

I had been wrong. Even though I had come with my parents and didn’t have to endure walking to the Royal Quarters with Vlad, I still had to try to ignore his presence once we got to the Ambrosias’ suite. That was hard to do when I could feel him watching me throughout dinner. Yet every time I looked up, his gaze was on his plate or anywhere else but on me.

Was I imagining it?

About the seventh time I felt his stare, I looked up and my eyes finally caught his. He was blatantly staring. Neither of us broke away until Kris nudged me, asking if I was all right.

“I need to use the restroom.” Although it was a lie, I excused myself from the table anyway and made my way to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and sat on the closed seat of the toilet for one full minute. I stood, hit the flush button, and washed my hands, dedicated to my white lie. When I opened the bathroom door, I found Vlad leaning against the wall by the door.

Without saying anything, I turned left, heading for the dining room when his words stopped me in my tracks. “I’m sorry.”

I was convinced I had misheard him. “You’re—what?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said the things I said to you the other night.” He shook his head, looking both dejected and regretful. “I was out of line.”