Her chest tightened.
It wasn’t as simple for him as leaving that life behind. It had left an indelible mark on him. He couldn’t even fully enjoy comfortable things.
She wanted to tear down the walls of the castle, to unmake the world and remake it for him. If only she were a goddess. If only she had that kind of power. If only things were different.
She had said to him that if she had seen him at a ball, and she had been free to approach him, and he had been free to approach her, then they would’ve ended up together. They would have too.
But they didn’t have the option of finding each other in that ideal space. They didn’t have the option for being those people. They were Ragnar and Fern. And they were shaped by the things that had happened to them. Deeply. In ways that were not quite so simple to fix.
If they were, this man wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor when he lived in a whole palace.
She couldn’t make that pain go away for him. But she could join him where he was.
She climbed out of bed, and lowered herself down onto the floor, taking the blanket with her as she lay alongside of him, only able to claim just a small sliver of the bedroll. He startled, sitting up like he was ready for battle. And then he looked down at her.
“What are you doing?”
“I wasn’t going to leave you down here to sleep by yourself.”
“You don’t need to sleep on the floor with me.”
“Then why are you sleeping on the floor?”
“It is none of your concern.”
“It is my concern, though. You are my concern.”
“And why is that? Because you’re going to leave this place. You’re going to leave me.”
That life, the one that she had envisioned for herself after this, felt different now. It didn’t seem as clear. It didn’t seem as sharp.
“But two years are not nothing,” she said. “Think of the three years you’ve been back here. Think of all that has changed. Think of all the more that will be changed by the time our agreement comes to an end. Maybe you’ll be sleeping in a bed.”
He sat up. “Maybe.”
She sat up with him, grabbing hold of his bicep. He had gotten dressed, which she didn’t like. “I’m all into this. For the time that we have.”
“You do not have to sleep on the floor.”
“You could sleep in the bed.”
“I don’t like to sleep too deeply. In case something happens.”
Her heart hurt. “Were you potentially under attack when you were waiting to take the country back?”
“No. Earlier. That was when things were truly dangerous.”
“You talked about it before. It was your nanny that helped you escape?”
“That’s my understanding. Because I don’t remember. But I was told later by the family that cared for me.”
“Your nanny didn’t continue to take care of you?”
“No. She was afraid that she would be too easy to track down. She left me with some distant relatives.”
“And they knew that you were the heir to the throne but they treated you like a servant?”
“They always told me it was for my own good. As I said, my identity was never hidden from me. And I knew. I knew my name. I knew that I was the king. With both of my parents dead, I knew. But it meant nothing to me. So it seemed perfectly reasonable that they had me sleep in the barn. I used to guard the animals.”
