All of that, though, could wait until tomorrow. After the meeting, Cailean had been pulled away to deal with work and questions, and he hadn't had a moment to rest since morning. He hadn't even been able to see Maeve since the meeting, and as he headed back toward their rooms, all he wanted in the world was to curl up in her arms and forget everything until it was time for responsibility to rear its head. He did not resent his role as future king, nor did he wish to turn away from his duties, butthat did not mean that the burden did not lay heavy upon his shoulders at times.
The weight lifted as he pushed open the doors to his chambers and walked in to see Maeve waiting on the window seat, looking out over the grounds. He stood there for a moment, just watching her. She was the most beautiful image he'd ever seen, with her tumbling long brown hair, grown again after being cut, her wide grass-green eyes, and her flowing white dress. It wasn't just her physical attractiveness, though; her whole being gave off an aura of peace and warmth that gave him a new lease on life. Cailean understood that she knew that she was beautiful; it even bothered her sometimes, but she didn't truly understand what it meant. It wasn't the way she looked. It was the way she was—everything about her.
He stepped forward, and the sound of his shoes on the stone was enough to distract Maeve from where she had been looking. "Cailean," she greeted. She sounded tired, but genuinely happy to see him, that same warmth echoing in her voice. "I missed ye. Have ye had a long day?"
"Ye're already in yer night things," he observed as he closed and locked the door behind him, and she stood and made her way toward him. Her pretty nightgown was thin and clinging, and his eyes couldn't help wandering over her body, admiring the rise and fall of her chest, the soft curves of her hips. "Ye didnae stay awake just waitin' for me, did ye?"
"Of course I did," she told him with a soft laugh. "Take off yer shoes. Ye need tae rest."
The tiredness sagged on his shoulders and he said, "Ye're right. I do."
Maeve took Cailean by the hand and led him to their bed, sitting him down on the edge. She knelt, undoing the buckles on his shoes and helping him take them off.
"Ye dinnae need tae do that," he told her, though his gratitude was evident in his voice.
"I ken. If ye expected it, I wouldnae," she replied. She undid the ties, and he shifted, allowing his clothing to fall away piece by piece as she helped him undress, leaving him in only his underthings. Every moment lit up his muscles, changing his exhaustion into something new. Pressing a kiss to his chest, Maeve said, "There. That's better, is it nae?"
He let out a low noise of satisfaction. Feeling her this close, the tiredness seemed to vanish, replaced by something more primal. He still longed for his bed, but now he needed her with him. "Come here," he said, reaching out.
She danced away from his hands. "In a moment," she told him. She walked over to the chest of drawers nearby and picked up a small wrapped package from the top. "I want tae give ye somethin' first."
Temporarily distracted by his curiosity, Cailean asked, "Is this a gift?"
"Aye, of sorts." She placed the package in his hands. "Open it. Please."
Cailean pulled at the little string that held the bundle together, and the silk wrap fell away to reveal a small but finely crafted knife. "What is this?"
"It was a gift given tae me long ago," Maeve explained. "I carried it with me in the halls of this castle when it was kent as Darach Castle, ruled by our oppressors. I used it tae make meself feel safe when me life was naught but darkness. But now…now I carry Tailfeather at me side, because ye gifted her tae me. Now I walk these walls as me home, nae as me prison. I dinnae need it anymore — but I want ye tae have it."
"Me?"
"Ye. I want ye tae be protected, just as I was protected by it." Maeve closed his hands gently around the handle. "I'm givin' yea blade, just as ye gave me one. May it guard ye as closely as yers has guarded me."
Cailean's heart swelled, and he felt a lump in his throat, almost overwhelmed by her gesture. He handed her back the knife, and she placed it safely back in the drawers, then returned to his open arms. Cailean held her close in a tight embrace, pressing his lips to her hair. "Thank ye," he murmured. "Thank ye so much. I cannae explain how much it means tae me."
"Ye mean it?" she whispered against his chest. She was sitting on his lap now, her legs wrapped around his waist. "I'm so glad ye like it, I…"
"I'll carry it with me always," he promised. He paused, then asked, "Are ye afraid?"
"I…" Maeve pulled back and looked up at him. "Aye. I'm afraid, Cailean. Nae about the danger we face in front of us—God kens we've already faced worse dangers together—but of somethin' much more terrifyin'. I'm afraid of losin' ye."
"Ye'll never lose me," Cailean promised her. "Even if they pull us apart, even if I die, I'll always be at yer side. I'll always be with ye. I swear it." He kissed her gently. "And believe me, I have nae intention of dyin' anyway."
"Ye'd better not," she told him, then relaxed into his arms, her body pressed against his bare chest, surrendering to a deeper kiss.
The heat in the room seemed to change as their mouths pressed together, and their lips parted, their tongues meeting. It was not hurried this time, not rushed at all, as Maeve gently pushed and Cailean fell back against the bed, his arms tight on her back, bringing her down with him. Their bodies pressed tightly together as they lay like that, their hips already grinding against one another, but neither was in a hurry to end this, even as Cailean felt her pressing against his hardness and longed to feel her even closer.
They broke the kiss, and Maeve sat up, but kept a hand on his chest to keep him laying as he was. She leaned down, kissing his neck and chest, giving him the full view of her atop him in nothing but her thin nightdress that felt so exquisite against his skin, second only to the feeling of her bareness against his own.
"Maeve…" he murmured as her hands ran down his sides, leaving little sparks of lightning behind them as they went. He moved to touch her, but he batted his hands away.
"Let me," she told him, her deep green eyes flashing with hunger that made his lower half pulse with need. It was difficult not to touch her, but he could tell how much she wanted this, and he could not refuse her anything in this state.
She moved off him, causing him to groan at the sudden loss of her weight, but his groan was cut off as her lips found his again. The kiss was firmer this time, more intense, and when she pulled back, they were both gasping for air. Her kisses continued downward, down his chest, her fingers exploring his entire body, and when she reached his underwear line, Cailean's body shuddered with need.
"I…"
"Shhh," she whispered, and she removed the underwear in a way that was somehow both awkward and sensual. She'd never taken charge like this before, and with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Cailean could not think of anything more attractive to him now than giving over the reins for a little while.
