“I’m not surprised you were grumpy and brooding even back then.” My fingers skim over her abdomen, and her breath catches.
“All that brooding paid off,” I rumble in my deepest voice. I know what effect it has on her, and I’m not opposed to using it to melt away her anger. “Since you love my fierce scowl.”
“I didn’t say I love it,” she breathes. “Only that Ilikedit.” The currents around her hum in agreement.
I press a chaste kiss over her racing pulse, resting my forehead against her temple. “I’m doing this all wrong, Mayah. I’m truly, truly sorry. In my efforts to keep you safe, I’m making you resent me. I wish we could spend every minute together. When I’m not with you, believe me that you dominate my every thought. Give me another chance. I’ll do better.”
Her energy signature spreads, as if reaching for me.
“Andhow, exactly, will you do better?”
My clever girl. Not letting me off the hook so easily.
“You can freely explore the palace. With guards,” I add quickly.
“One guard,” she insists.
“Four.”
“One.”
“Two.” I pinch her side playfully. “No less.”
“Fine.” She narrows her eyes, glancing at me sideways. “What else?”
“You can heal in the infirmary as you please. Just—don’t burn through your reserves. I know food was … limited in Tundrayn. We have no such scarcity here. I won’t have you collapsing to prove a point.”
“And?” she prompts. Her bright smile steals my breath.
I tickle her ribs, and a breathy laugh escapes her.
“You’re being cruel. You already have me on my knees,” I murmur, affection threading every word. “I’ll work less, I swear it. I’ve been putting off going to the border, thinking it was enough. But I realize now, even with me here, we spend too much time apart. I’ve been a fool, Mayah.” I press a soft kiss to her temple. “But I’ll learn. Have patience with me.”
“All right,” she whispers. “One more chance.”
I hold her tightly, inhaling her tantalizing scent. Skies, I’ve missed her.
We sit on the blanket and eat our dinner beneath the stars. She asks me about the Rebellion, and I ask about the patients today and her books, my hands never far from her knee or arm or shoulder.
“Will your father and brother disapprove of me healing in the infirmary?” she asks quietly, worrying her lower lip.
“Don’t worry about them,” I reassure. “I’ll handle them. You do as you please.”
My fingers smooth over her hair, weaving through the dark locks. “I have something for you. It’s long overdue.”
The servant presented it to me after I left the council chambers, his hands shaking. The jeweler had dropped it off and made himself scarce. He needn’t have worried this time—it was perfect.
The small box feels heavy in my palm as I retrieve it from my pocket. I flip open the lid to show her, mouth suddenly dry, and look at my wife expectantly.
Her breath rushes out, fingers rising to brush against her mother’s necklace—the twin to her new ring.
“I had it made for you,” I murmur, shifting closer until our knees touch. “It took longer than I expected.”
Not a word crosses her lips, but a lone tear tracks a wet path down her cheek.
Skies damn me. I couldn’t even get this right.
“You don’t like it?”
