“Ciana? Are you there?”
“Stop being so loud and just come inside!” she croaked, rolling onto her back, flinging her arm dramatically across her face.
Her door opened with a soft click, followed by familiar footfalls. The lights blazed to life.
“Fuck!” she hissed, flipping back onto her stomach. The quick movement sent a fresh rush of pain clawing through her skull, sinking its hooks into her mind.
That was it; no more wine. Ginonlyfor her, from there on out.
The door closed, and to her surprise, Sebastian chuckled softly. “I was a little worried you’d be in a rough state today. But nothing this bad.”
“What?” She cracked an eye, the light of the room burning. He was relaxed, leaning against the tree trunk in the center of her room, arms folded as he watched her with amusement.
Sebastian shrugged. “You looked fine when you came back last night, is all. Tired for sure, but certainly not drunk enough for”—he waved a hand in her direction— “this.”
“You saw me last night? After dinner?” Ciana pushed up, blinking furiously against the light. She didn’t remember coming back to her room last night or how she got here or who she might’ve been with?—
Panic flooded her with a strange wildness. It was the first thing that managed to chase away some of her headache. She glanced around her room, scanning for any sign that someone other than herself had been here.
But no. It was only marred with traces of her. Only half of the bed was slept in, the other pillows untouched. Only her discarded clothes covered the furniture, only her scent met her nose.
A question had entered Sebastian’s expression.
“Ciana?” he asked. “Do you… Do you not remember getting back last night?”
A slow, sheepish grin spread across her face. “I guess I might’ve gone a little crazy with the wine at dinner.”
Sebastian’s brow furrowed. “Maybe,” he said. He pushed off from the tree, still wearing that edged, thoughtful expression, and tentatively sat at the end of her bed. His eyes darted to the nearly empty glass on her nightstand. “More water?”
“Ugh, please,” Ciana said with a groan. “It’s the only thing that’s sort of helping this goddess-damned headache.”
His lips tilted into a smile as he stood, swiping her glass and heading to the faucet.
Just when he flipped on the tap, a fresh wave of horror hit Ciana.
“Gods,” she said, palm meeting her cheek. “There is nowayI didn’t do something horrendously embarrassing.” She slid her hand down her face, letting it fall to the down comforter. “Did you see the king last night? Did he say anything? How fucked am I, truly?”
Sebastian’s expression was still guarded and wary, but the corner of his lip lifted, along with his brow. “Yes, I saw the king last night. He walked you back to your room.” He handed her the glass. She took it from him, waiting.
“And?”
“And, what?”
“And did he say anything? Did I ruin this?”
Sebastian slowly sat at the end of her bed. He chuckled, but it was almost humorless. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.
“No, Cee,” he said finally. “He didn’t say anything, and I promise—you didn’t ruin anything.”
She slumped, letting out a heavy exhale of relief. “Thank the goddess.” She took a deep sip of her water, the crispness chasing away a little more of her lingering headache. “Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure.”
Ciana narrowed her eyes, following the tense line of his shoulders. “I know you hate this,” she began. “But you know why I can’t risk ruining anything?—”
“I know, Ciana.” Sebastian met her gaze. “You’re right; I do hate it. But I understand. I know that you have to do this. I just find it a little funny that you think you could do anything that would ruin what you’re here to do.”
Ciana blinked. She took another sip of water. “He’s a king. By birth, I’m a commoner. Of course I can ruin it.”
