My breath caught.
He’dasked. Gently.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said.
“If anyone could,” he murmured, “it would be you.”
The words wrapped around me like a tether, drawing me closer to him. Slowly, I settled against him, curling into the warmth of his chest. His arms didn’t move to hold me, but I felt the tension in him, the awareness.
I tried not to stare at his chest again. I failed.
“This is strange for me,” he said after a while, his voice a quiet rumble. “Having someone here. Letting someone see me like this.”
I stroked the edge of the bandage, needing something to touch. “Because you’re royal.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Because I’m never allowed to lower my guard. There are always expectations. Enemies.” He looked down at me. “Surely you understand.”
Ifroze.
Did he know who I truly was, that I came from a rival court, from a place that taught children to fear his name?
If he did, he’d call me out. Throw me in the dungeon.
Wouldn’t he?
I studied his expression, finding it quiet, unreadable. No cruelty there. No threat. Just honesty, tired and real.
“It’s hard,” I said carefully. “Having to be strong when you feel anything but.”
Our gazes held.
For the first time, we weren’t tossing barbed words like daggers. We weren’t pretending. We were two souls spinning too close, warming yet wary. I didn’t know what to do with that.
Because he wasn’t supposed to be soft.
And I wasn’t supposed to care.
But I did.
And I wasn’t ready for what that meant either.
His voice found me again, quiet now. “There’s a kind of strength you learn when you have to lead before you’re ready. When there’s no one left to shield you.”
I glanced up, surprised. His gaze seemed distant, not sharp and assessing like usual. “You mean your parents?”
Trew nodded once. “My mother was buried with her crown still tangled in her hair. My father was killed before I could grow into his shadow. I was fifteen. I didn’t have the heart to rule, but I did it anyway.”
Something in me cracked.
“My mother died when I was ten,” I said, before I could stop myself. “She used to sing to me in the dark, especially during thunder and lightning.” I’d never told anyone else this. “I’m afraid of storms. I feel like the lightning will stab through the window and find me.” It sounded weak. Pitiful, actually. “I still remember her voice.”
“Hold onto it for as long as you can. Don’t ever let anyone steal it from you.”
“You confuse me,” I said softly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear.
“You confuse me too.”
I frowned. “Do you have someone who can help you care for this wound? A healer or a royal stitcher?”
