Deirdre couldn't care less. She rose, closed the window, and heard a sound from the shower. She was about to turn when she felt a man wrap his arms around her waist.

She could smell the soap he used. It seemed someone was in a good mood despite being close to his operation. “Is everything prepared?”

Kyran let go and took his phone. “Why? Are you worried about me?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I know it’s not anything major, but there are always risks of complications in any given surgery. I’m always going to be worried.”

“You don’t have to be,” replied Kyran, a smile shadowing his lips. “Because Lady Nike, Goddess of Victory, is on my side. The operation will be a success, and then we'll leave this place when I’m all healed up.”

He kissed her earlobe. “First stop, Southyam. How about that?”

“Southyam?”

“Lots of good food, we’ll eat whatever we like! You’re too skinny, Deirdre. I gotta do what boyfriends are divinely commanded to do—bring you the best food until you’re chubby and chummy.