She watched as he stood, coming around the bed to the other side. Her pulse quickened as he reached for the blanket. ‘Is this okay?’ he asked, voice low.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, moving over as he got in. They both lay facing the ceiling.
‘Try and sleep,’ he whispered. A tingle ran down her spine at the sound of his voice so near while she was in bed. But she hardly had time to think about it at the sound of scuttling. Gasping, she clutched his arm.
‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he said, though she could sense he was amused. She knew she was being a bit dramatic. ‘Sonya, they’re so tiny, they won’t hurt you.’
‘I know that but…’ She shuddered, turning toward him. He turned onto his side, as well, facing her.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.’ His voice turned teasing. ‘If any mice try to climb into bed with you, I’ll fend them off as devotedly as I would fend off a vagabond.’
She hit his chest, and he held her hand, chest rumbling under her palm as he laughed.
‘It isn’t funny,’ she said, trying to pout, but her lips were twitching.
‘It’s alittlefunny,’ he replied. He had successfully distracted her though, and the squeaking didn’t come again. They both listened, but it seemed as though the coast was clear.
‘Should I leave you?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.’ He was hesitant again.
‘No, stay.’ The words were out before she could stop them.
She knew he was just trying his best to be proper, but she almostwished he would take liberties. But she couldn’t say that. Instead, she said, ‘You’re keeping me warm.’
She felt so cozy and safe and snuggly, and it wasn’t just the heat from his body, but him.
‘Okay,’ he replied, relaxing. He sounded relieved, as if he hadn’t wanted to go in the first place.
He was still holding her hand against his chest, her palm pressed flat over his heart. She could feel it pounding beneath her fingers.
She heard the sharp intake of his breath and, in the moonlight, she watched a muscle tick in his jaw. She inhaled the scent of strong black tea, breathing him in.
Then, ever so carefully, he shifted toward her, his gaze molten. Her stomach flipped, anticipation pulsing through her. His lips brushed against her forehead in the gentlest of kisses. She closed her eyes, arching closer. Heat poured through her, liquifying her limbs.
He drew back, and she looked up into his dark eyes, her heart beating fast.
‘Goodnight,’ he whispered.
‘Wait—’ She didn’t want to sleep just yet. ‘Tell me a story.’
His lips twitched. ‘Okay, let me think.’ She got comfortable, the tension leaving her body. She was quite tired, but now she wanted to hear his story.
‘Once upon a time, there was a princess,’ he started. It was funny how when she heard of princesses, she didn’t think of herself. She didn’t feel like Sonya Tahir, Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Fairendelle, anymore. She just felt like Sonya.
‘Go on,’ she said, getting more comfortable. She yawned, feeling sleepy.
‘She was very kind and very beautiful. She had a special kind of magic, not a magic of trade, like the witches we know, but amagic that made all those around her feel strong and sure, that made them feel loved. Of course, there was a boy who admired her.’
Sonya listened to the sound of his voice, letting it carry her further toward sleep.
‘The problem was, the boy was just a boy,’ Azam continued. ‘He wasn’t a prince, or a duke, or a marquess, or an earl—he knew he wasn’t worthy of the princess. Even so, he could not stop himself from loving her. He wondered if the princess could ever think of him the same…’
Of course she can, Sonya thought, but the words did not come to her lips, and instead, she spoke them in her dream.For love, one can do anything.
‘Sonya?’ Azam asked, voice quiet, but she was already asleep.
21
Sonya slept soundly and had sweet dreams of being in love and being loved in return.
