"I did," I replied coldly, gesturing to the empty plates. He had already seen them, anyway. "It was delicious."
Rowan made his way to the trays, quietly looking at the empty plates. Then, he picked up a plate of food that was further in― this plate hadn't been flipped over earlier, and the shards of shattered china dinnerware had not been swept and dusted onto it.
He removed the cloche, revealing the roasted chicken underneath. The skin of the chicken was perfectly roasted into a golden brown, and there was an assortment of seasoned roasted vegetables on the side, along with a portion of mashed potatoes.
If this were any other day, it would've been an appetizing sight to behold. However, after regurgitating the contents of my stomach, leaving the stomach acid to burn the back of my throat, the smell of the chicken merely made my stomach roll with discomfort.
Calmly, Rowan picked up the dish, along with a fork and a knife.
"Cassian, close the door," he instructed.
