“I’m cold,” I say.
When he lifts the blankets for me, I join him without argument. The warmth within is divine, and for a second, I forget what we were even talking about.
I don’t forget how close our half-clothed bodies are.
“Tonight is the feast celebrating your arrival,” he says, and when I lift my eyes to his, he finishes with, “I must go see the wyverns.”
“What? Why?”
I can see little other than his eyes and horns, and even so, I can tell he’s debating with himself on how much to say.
“The peace between dragons and wyverns is tenuous at best,” he says. “They claim territory in the mountains north of the desert, but right now a large party of them is gathered in a temporary camp outside of the city.”
“Why so close?”
“For the same reason so many dignitaries have arrived early for the wedding. Tirenth is not usually open to guests. They have come to see the kingdom.” He props himself up on one elbow. “And you.”
My eyes fall. “I think you are overestimating their interest in me, sir.”
“I think not.”
I’m tempted to tell him that if such were the case, I would not be the only water drawer in my family’s history to receive a single offer of marriage. Each of my sisters received no less than three. My grandmother, the last water drawer before me, receivednineteen.
I don’t tell him any of this because a knock at the servant’s door signals breakfast, and the conversation is dropped. I smile and blush as the maids bustle about, first arranging our trays and then picking up our discarded clothing, which is bound to spur more gossip on.
“Princess,” the king says as he finishes off his third pastry, “I wonder if you might do me a favor today.”
Another favor? The maids continue tidying, though I know every word we say will be passed along downstairs.
“What might that be, Your Majesty?”
He picks up a chocolate-covered raspberry. “The Lady Tilanthia has requested your company today. Might you entertain her while I attend to some other matters?”
Well, this is low. His asking me while servants are about gives me little choice. If I say no to visiting with his sister, the word will spread through the palace within the hour.
“I’d love to, Your Majesty.” I grace him with a vapid smile. “Will there be anything else I can do for you?”
“Yes, I wonder if you might choose my attire for this evening. I want to wear something that pleases you.”
I stab at a poached egg with my fork. “Do you have a preferred color?”
“No, though perhaps something that’s easily removed would suit best.”
A maid audibly gasps, and I nearly choke on my egg.
“Of course,” I say when I find my voice.
I don’t dare say anything else, and when he dresses and returns to the bedside, I can barely meet his eyes. Taking up my hand, he bends low over it.
“Until tonight,” he says.
I still as he presses his lips to my knuckles.
When he leaves, all I can think is that a king really ought to play fair.
***
Lady Tilanthia arrives in a flurry of skirts, perfume, and irresistible warmth.
