Worth

"Dinner's here."

Histoire turned to the door when Deus' voice broke past the barrier from the other side succeeding a soft knock and some shuffling that Histoire assumed was a servant who had wheeled in the dinner on a tray. It arrived thirty minutes after she entered her room, and she was done with discarding the wet gown and drying her air along with dressing up in warm clothing in ten minutes. The remaining twenty minutes were spent in constant contemplation while seated on the bed in the much appreciated tranquility.

She had not the appetite to eat anything at the moment, but she knew her body was famished and she needed the nutrients. How else would she recover from the cold if she starved herself and denied her body any satisfaction? She doubted she would be able to fall asleep again without a proper meal. All of this reluctance came from the fact that she did not want to face Deus at the present moment.