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"You had better hope I never recover." I stared at him. "Because if I do, you will regret every moment of this."

He looked genuinely confused.

"My mouth has never come near yours.”

"What?"

"I am many things." His voice stayed level. "But I do not force myself on unwilling women." A pause. "Especially not you."

I looked at him and realized that perhaps Dali was right, perhaps there was some sort of madness to him. He truly seemed to not remember trying to kiss me.

He hesitated after that. Like he wanted to say something else and decided against it.

A tear slid down my face. I hated it. I had spent so much of my life refusing to cry and now that I was dead I could not seem to stop.

"I do not want to share a bed with you." My voice cracked. "You are not him."

The grief hit all at once. I rolled onto my back and pressed my face into the pillow and made a sound that did not feel entirely human.

A knock at the door.

Teorin stood immediately. Only then did I realize the door had been locked. He had left me trapped inside this room with him. The realization turned my stomach.

When the door opened a woman stepped inside. Long silver hair. Olive skin. Simple gray robes. She curtsied to me first, then to Teorin. I noticed that immediately.

"Your Majesty," she said. “Her Highness will require proper clothing if she is expected to remain in Morrath."

Teorin frowned. "I have already assigned a tailor."

"I'm afraid he refuses to sew for anyone except King Sevrin." She paused. “Besides, the princess requires special attire since she does not have feeder blood like you.”

Teorin looked confused. “Leather,” she said gently. “Humans of high station are permitted to wear leather. The creatures of Morrath have an aversion to it.”

Teorin frowned. “I do not understand. I am a feeder and I do not have an aversion to it, so why would the creatures here?”

She smiled. “Not all creatures have the aversion, Majesty. Moreover, do not forget that Morrath is different. The magic is different.”

There was silence. Then, “Anyway, the leather tailor has arrived.”

His eyes narrowed. "There is such a tailor?"

"So I am told."

"Where?"

"The lower entrance behind the northwest corridor."

He hesitated. "Perhaps⁠—"

“The weather will change soon, Majesty. Without proper clothing," she interrupted politely, "the princess is liable to freeze. She also becomes considerably easier to assassinate."

He sighed. "I'll find him."

When the door shut behind him I blinked.

"There is a tailor here this late?”

She laughed. “No,” she said. She walked across the room and opened the wardrobe. “The rumor is that King Sevrin held some fantasy of having you here at some point. He had hundreds of leather pieces made for you, your Highness.”