Relief flooded through me at the admission. "I've been afraid I'd disappoint you. That all your theoretical knowledge would show you how inadequate I am for the role I'm supposed to play."
"What if we're both wrong?" Kaelen suggested. "What if we're exactly what each other needs, just not in the ways anyone expects?"
The possibility hung between us like a bridge neither of us was quite ready to cross. But the idea was there now, planted and growing.
Above us, the moon continued its stately progress across the star-drunk sky. Somewhere in the distance, a night bird called, its song lonely and beautiful. The air smelled of jasmine and ripe fruit and the clean scent of dew beginning to form on grass and leaves.
Time felt suspended, stolen from the relentless march toward ceremony and duty and expectation. Here in this hidden grove, we were just two peoplelearning each other, discovering unexpected compatibility beneath formal obligations.
"The sun will rise soon," Kaelen observed, though he made no move to leave.
"Unfortunately."
"Tomorrow night?" he asked, the question casual but his eyes holding something more intense.
I should have said no. Should have reminded us both about propriety and protocol. Should have suggested we maintain appropriate distance until the ceremony made our partnership official.
Instead, I heard myself say, "Yes."
His smile was radiant, transforming his serious features into something that made my breath catch. "Good. I'll find you."
"Where?"
"Somewhere new. There are places in this complex I want to show you, if you're willing to explore."
The promise in his words was about more than physical locations, and we both knew it. But neither of us named what was really being offered and accepted in this moonlit grove.
"I should go," I said reluctantly. "Dawn watch will be changing soon."
"And I should return before my absence is noted." Kaelen rose gracefully, brushing grass from his robes. "Thank you for this. For coming out, for talking, for..." He paused, seeming to search for words. "For being yourself."
"Thank you for asking."
We walked back through the gardens in comfortablesilence, both of us aware that something had shifted between us but neither ready to examine it too closely. When we reached the point where our paths diverged—his toward the scholarly wing, mine back to my quarters—we stopped.
"Five more days," he said softly.
"Five more nights," I corrected.
His smile was soft, full of promise. "Good night, Rion."
"Good night."
I watched him disappear into the shadows before climbing back through my window. The room that had felt confining hours before now seemed almost welcoming, charged with the memory of stolen time and unexpected connection.
As I finally settled into bed, the taste of figs still sweet on my tongue and the scent of jasmine clinging to my clothes, I realized that for the first time in days, my mind was quiet. The restless energy that had plagued me was gone, replaced by something that might have been anticipation rather than dread.
Tomorrow—tonight—I would see him again. Learn more about him, share more of myself, and continue building whatever this was between us.
Five more nights.
The thought should have brought anxiety. Instead, it felt like a promise.
Chapter
Six
KAELEN
