"Completely." I lift our joined hands to press a kiss against her knuckles, a gesture that feels like promise and declarationcombined. "Last night was the first time in years I've felt like myself instead of some hollow version going through motions."
Her answering smile starts small but grows until it transforms her entire face, fear and uncertainty giving way to something that looks like cautious joy. The sight makes triumph sing through my bloodstream, pride in helping her see herself as worthy of being chosen rather than endured.
"Okay," she says, voice steadier now. "But I'm still going back to my room before your clan starts gossiping about overnight guests."
I want to argue, want to keep her here where I can touch her and confirm this new understanding between us, but practicality wins over desire. She's right that appearances matter, especially with Bronn's pressure to formalize our connection through ritual binding. Better to let things develop naturally than give my brother ammunition for political manipulation.
"Go," I tell her with reluctance that makes her smile widen. "But Saela? This conversation isn't over."
"Good," she says, rising to gather scattered clothing. "I like this version of you much better than the one pretending not to care."
I watch her body with appreciation that has nothing to do with physical desire and everything to do with the confidence returning to her movements. She's beautiful, yes, but it's the strength in her shoulders and determination in her jaw that makes my pulse quicken with something deeper than lust.
After she slips out with a quick kiss that tastes like promises, I lie back against furs that still carry her scent and try to process how completely my understanding of the situation has shifted. This morning I woke up dreading the complications that caring would bring. Now I find myself eager to explore exactly how deep this connection might go, politics and tradition be damned.
The thought should terrify me. Instead it feels like relief, like finally admitting the truth I've been avoiding since the moment she looked at me with trust instead of fear and asked me not to let go.
Voices outside my door interrupt the contemplation. Familiar heavy footsteps and the rumble of my brother's voice as he dismisses whatever warrior was accompanying him. I have exactly enough time to pull on trousers before Bronn's knock echoes through the longhouse.
"Come in," I say as I cross into the living room, trying to look at ease.
Bronn enters without ceremony, steel-gray eyes immediately scanning the room with assessment that makes my jaw tighten. His gaze lingers on rumpled furs, the faint depression where another body had rested, before settling on my face with an expression I recognize too well.
"We need to talk," he says, closing the door behind him with deliberate care.
"About what?" I keep my tone neutral despite the defensive tension crawling up my spine.
"About the fact that you've finally stopped pretending this arrangement is temporary." He crosses to the hearth, massive frame blocking firelight as he turns to face me. "Yesterday when you thought something had happened to her, you looked like someone facing the loss of something precious. And now..."
His gesture takes in the obvious signs of overnight company, evidence that can't be explained away or dismissed. Heat climbs my neck despite attempts to maintain composure, irritation at being observed so closely warring with pride that refuses to be ashamed of choosing happiness.
"Now what?" I sound angry.
"Now you look like a male who's finally admitted what the rest of us have been seeing for weeks." Bronn's voice carriessatisfaction that makes my teeth clench. "You care about her. Deeply."
I don't bother denying the obvious. "Your point?"
"My point is that this is exactly what the Valentine Rite was meant to accomplish." He settles into the chair across from my bed, movements carrying the weight of someone prepared for lengthy discussion. "Connection, binding, the kind of partnership that strengthens clan unity. You've found what tradition promised, Kai. Now it's time to make it official."
"No." The word emerges flat and final, brooking no argument.
Bronn's eyebrows lift with surprise. "No?"
"You heard me." I lean forward, meeting his steel-gray gaze with determination that comes from bones deep conviction. "I won't let you turn what's happening between us into political theater. This is real, Bronn. It's ours. And I'll be damned if I let you use it to validate your theories about arranged partnerships."
"This isn't about validation," he protests, though something in his expression suggests otherwise. "This is about clan stability, about showing our people that the old ways still work when?—"
"When circumstances accidentally create the outcome you wanted anyway?" I interrupt with a bitter laugh. "You think because Saela and I have found something genuine, that proves forcing unwilling people together is wise leadership?"
His jaw tightens with frustrated anger. "I think it proves that sometimes the gods know better than we do what we need."
"The gods had nothing to do with this." My voice carries conviction that makes him lean back slightly. "What's growing between Saela and me happened despite the ritual, not because of it. If anything, your political pressure nearly destroyed any chance we had of connecting authentically."
"You're being deliberately obtuse," Bronn says with an edge of steel that usually makes subordinates reconsider their positions. "The ritual brought her here. The binding would ensure?—"
"The binding would ruin everything." I rise from the bed, pacing to the window where morning light filters through glass thick with frost patterns. "She's just started to trust that I want her for herself, not because tradition demands it. You want me to immediately prove her worst fears right by rushing into a formal ceremony that benefits the clan more than either of us?"
Silence stretches between us, heavy with years of accumulated tension over leadership philosophy and personal autonomy. When Bronn finally speaks, his voice carries weariness I rarely hear from my brother.
