“You, however, owe me none, Princess. Whatever is mine is yours.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Ducking my head, I bolt my way to the pillow pallet. The faster I can hide myself the better. To my dismay, the pallet appears to have no blankets, only pillows. I bite my lip. I suppose I could take a blanket from the bed, though a lifetime of living with sisters has taught me that people can be particular about their bedding. Mirelle might start a war over someone touching her linens.
“Do you need something?”
I wince at the question. Why can’t he focus on his book? Still clinging to my dress, I turn to face him.
“Might there be another blanket about?” I ask in as dignified a manner as possible.
The king lowers the book to his lap. “Are there not enough on the bed? I can call for more.”
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.” The idea of anyone else seeing me like this is too much for an evening already fraught with embarrassment. No, I’ll simply bury myself in pillows and pray sleep comes quickly. I ease down on the largest one I can find—a behemoth of crimson silk—and begin piling smaller ones around me.
“What are you doing?”
I glance up at his tone. He sounds mystified when the answer is obvious. “I’m arranging my bed, Your Majesty.”
“Arranging your…?” He stares at me, aghast. I start as the book slams shut with a thump. “You’re not sleepingthere,” he says, pronouncing the last word as if he’s speaking of a dung heap.
I blink at him. “Pardon?”
He shoots to his feet, all indignation. “My future queen sleep on thefloor?” He looks appalled. “Never.”
“But, this is your room…” In my room was different. Here, I assumed he would sleep in his own bed.
He storms over, seizes the pillow in my hands, and tosses it over his shoulder. “Did you not hear me? What’s mine is yours.”
With how outraged he looks, I’m surprised to find myself near laughing. “Would that not also apply to the pillows then?”
His brows knit together. “No, not tonight. You can reclaim them again tomorrow.” He holds a hand out to me.
Stifling a smile, I take it and let him draw me to my feet. All humor fades as his eyes meet mine and I once again become aware of how little I’m wearing. My cheeks and chest and all the rest of me feel flushed, like I’m suffering from some euphoric fever. When I pull away, the king releases me without lingering, and again I feel that absurd regret as I scramble into the bed and under the covers.
I listen as the king moves about the room, snuffing the sconces first and opening one of the many chests stacked in that shadowed corner next. I wonder what he keeps in them. Surely any gold, or jewels, or the like would be kept in a royal vault, wouldn’t they?
Finally, I hear him settle amongst the pillows beside the bed. A long, distinctly uncomfortable silence, the kind that only brews in the darkness when something might be said but nothing is, ensues. The king draws in a long breath.
“So you can wield water like a weapon,” he says.
“So you can do so with fire,” I reply.
The words seem fit for the dark. I don’t think either of us wanted to admit how surprised we were in that moment. Stories said dragons breathed fire, but none mentioned the same for their human forms. I doubt the king was any better prepared to be flogged by water.
Somehow, the silence feels less oppressive afterwards. I reach out for my cat friend, but he seems to have moved on from earlier. I even feel around with my feet to see if he’s at the bottom of the bed. I wish he were here to hold. I wrap my arms around a pillow and pull it close.
Sleep doesn’t come. What does are Cora’s words from earlier.
There’ll be some who are unkind because, well, they’re not used to humans, and they had their own ideas about who the king should marry…
The speech was meant kindly, of that I’m sure. Still, as the minutes drag by, I can’t help fixating on “their own ideas about who the king should marry.” Like who?
I’m not a fool; the Dragon King may not be human, but that doesn’t mean every ruler on the continent wasn’t fighting to send their daughters to him. An alliance with Tirenth is a powerful one indeed. No one would dare harass the country allied with the dragon kingdom.
Well, that allied country will soon be Vasna, so what does it matter what people think? It doesn’t. I roll to my other side.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” the king asks after I shift positions yet again.
