“It’s alright, Soria. Just a moment.”
His voice carries that unbothered authority that fills every space he occupies. She turns on her heel, retreating to the hall, her composure cracking in a way I’ve never seen.
“I suppose I can’t keep you all to myself,” he murmurs, voice rich and drowsy.
I cup his jaw, my thumb grazing the roughness of his beard. “Not if Soria—or your council—has anything to say about it.”
He kisses me then, slow and deep, more promise than parting.
When he rises, he moves without hurry. Trousers loose, shirt half-fastened, tunic draped across his arm—carefree in a way that makes him seem years younger. I clutch the blanket to my chest and watch him go, memorizing the sight of a man I so rarely see undone.
Soria slips back in, eyes averted, though the corners of her mouth betray a smirk.
“I don’t think it’s much of a secret that he shares my bed,” I tease. I say it lightly, but the truth beneath it does not laugh. No one ever kept close watch over me, no one ever worried over my prospects. I learned early to stand alone—and to stop begging to be understood.
People have always looked. Whispered. Judged.
Let them.
If they would look regardless, I will not make myself smaller to soothe them. And if something as sacred as love has come to me at last, I will not turn it away simply to keep the world comfortable.
She huffs a laugh. “It’s one thing to know, another to see.” Then, softer: “He’s like a brother to me, you know. Perhaps more so than he is sovereign.”
I frown in the mirror as she begins brushing through my hair. “What do you mean?”
“I suppose I’ve never told you.” Her strokes slow. “My mother was a maid to Princess Aurienne when I was still a girl. The princess and I grew up more like sisters than mistress and servant. When she married and left Caerhollan, she begged my mother to go with her—and she did.”
Soria’s voice gentles. “I stayed behind with my husband. He was in the King’s Guard. He fell beside Lord Thalen in the pass to Thrymnir.”
The brush stills in her hand.
“When Aurienne returned to say goodbye, she made me promise—look after her brother.”
The ache in her words settles deep. I turn slightly, but she keeps her gaze on my reflection. “He lost his father that day too. I think we both survive our grief by burying it in duty.”
She reaches for my gown, motion smoothing into practiced ease. “All that to say, the man may be king—but I still need not walk in on him naked in your bed.”
We both laugh, the sound lightening the air. I turn and pull her into a hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For sharing this. For accepting me.”
She squeezes my hand. “You’ve made him happier than I’ve seen in a hundred years. I’d say I’m keeping my promise quite well.”
The moment lingers—soft, fragile—before we rise to greet the day.
Vale and Ace are called into a council meeting that stretches through the afternoon. I walk the corridors with Soria, letting her show me the corners of the Hold I haven’t yet discovered.
Each day I uncover more of Caerhollan—and each day I realize how little of it I truly know.
Still, I find myself smiling more easily. The rhythm of life here is beginning to feel like mine. The courtiers still whisper, but their words feel distant, hollow, unable to touch the warmth that lingers where Vale’s hand was this morning.
For the first time, I feel like I belong.
And for the first time, I fear what belonging might cost.
By the time the council adjourns, I am eager just to see him again—to return to the simple comfort of his presence after so many hoursapart.
My heart flutters when I spot Vale outside my chamber door. He greets me with a weary smile—joy and exhaustion woven together from a day that takes all it is owed. I all but skip as I run to him, flinging my arms around his neck. He remains rigid and cold. Distant.
