Disguise (1)

Destrian had nodded off with the miniature figure of a knight between his thumb and fingers, and he didn't realize he had fallen asleep until someone pried it from his hand. 

He opened his eyes and blinked. "Sianna? Why are you here?" 

Sianna shot him an unhappy look and sat opposite him, in the seat that had probably been occupied by the general the day before when he discussed battle strategies with Destrian. "I don't know. Maybe because the prince I'm supposed to take care of—the one who is still injured—doesn't care about his health? How could you stay up all night? Did you even eat yesterday?" 

He chuckled, not chastised by her scolding. "I am a demon, Sianna. I don't need food as often as humans do." 

"Your body is still recovering from your fight—which, by the way, is a very human characteristic. When will you ever take better care of yourself?" She scolded.