He pulls me closer. “That night. The clock was behind you. It was sixty minutes.” His voice lowers. “Sixty. And it still didn’t feel like enough.”
He kisses me, and I kiss him back. Everything falls away. Morrath, Sevrin, succession, it all disappears?—
Then I push him away.
“I need to think,” I whisper, and I walk out.
I take about ten steps down the corridor before I stop.
My heart is doing something unreasonable. I stand there in the dim hallway and I look at the door and I think about sixty minutes and how it still wasn't enough, and I turn around.
I push the door open.
His back is to me. He's facing the window, his shirt open, his hair in the particular disorder that tells me he ran his hands through it the moment I left.
He turns when he hears the door, surprised, a small frown crossing his face. "What?—"
I don’t let him finish. I cross the room and pull him toward me and kiss him, my hand finding his hair, and he kisses me back immediately, no hesitation, no question.
"I won't leave you," I murmur against his mouth. "We will do this together. I won't fight it again."
I feel him exhale. Something in him releases.
“Except for councils and boring dinners,” I add softly against his lips. “Those are yours.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, something loosening in him, and then he pulls back just enough to look at me.
“Asha… I do not doubt that you are capable. And I am just as committed to uncovering Morrath as you are.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “When I was in there, I felt something in my blood, Colsar. It didn’t sit right.”
“He is…unwell. And hiding something,” Colsar says. “That much I can tell.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Tomorrow the Moon Chambers will finally be ready for us, I hear.”
“Good. I threatened to flay them alive if it wasn’t.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would, and I did,” he answered. I laugh. For a moment, we simply stare at each other, the tension between us thickening.
“Why did you stop kissing me?” I whisper.
“Because those aren’t the lips I feel like kissing anymore.”
His mouth moves to my neck, lower, slower?—
“For dinner tonight,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “I requested the great hall.” I pause, feeling shy. It was usually Colsar who made these types of plans for us. “We’ve never eaten there together. I requested a harpist to play forus. I thought it might be…” I hesitate, then finish it anyway. “Romantic.”
His fingers flex lightly against my waist. “You did that?”
“They’re preparing your favorites,” I say, quieter now, warmth slipping through me at the look on his face. Color rises faintly along his cheekbones before he leans his forehead briefly against mine.
A knock hits the door. “Prince Colsar.”
He closes his eyes. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Another knock. "Your Highness, the Queen Dowager requests your presence at Filar House this evening. She has arrived from the Eastern Court."
