I sniff a little. "I know that I shouldn't have asked, but it's easy to regret it."
"I know." He steps closer, hesitating for a moment.
Without thinking too much about it, I close the gap between us and wrap my arms around his waist. His hand rests on my back as he pulls me closer. He smells of freshly baked bread, soothing and familiar.
There's no stopping the tears now, and they start rolling down my cheeks. I wouldn't want anyone else to see me like this, but this is Nate. He's safe.
"It's all right, Evie," he murmurs, resting his chin on my head as I cry. It's so easy for us to embrace like this, even if it's a new thing. We've always had a good sense of what it means to share the same physical space, but we've never been particularly physically affectionate.
Then again, we've never spent five years apart either.
The tears dry up, and I pull back, wiping my cheeks.
Nate looks at me with concern on his face. "Are you all right?"
"Not really," I respond. "I just..."
"Just?" he prompts when I don't say anything.
I take a deep breath, thinking about the best way to say this. "I've missed you for five years, and now you're here, I guess I'm realising exactly how much that is."
"I know the feeling." He rubs a hand down my back, the touch far more comforting than I'd ever expect it to be. "I'm not going to be gone forever," he promises.
"You don't know that," I whisper.
"I do," he promises. "But don't worry about it too much. We should make the most of the week we've got, and you should leave me to figure out how I'm going to come back to Falhaven full-time."
I nod, looking up at him and seeing the truth written all over his face. He means it. Which is what I want. I've lost him once, I don't ever want to lose him again.
Chapter 8
The door to my bed chamber opens, and my lady's maid steps inside. Betsy immediately dips into a curtsy. "Your Highness."
"Good morning, Betsy," I respond brightly.
She starts to smile, but then clears her throat. "Are you ready to dress for the day?" she asks.
I nod and get to my feet, allowing her to help me change my shift. I grimace as the lace of the collar scratches against the skin of my neck.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Betsy says, reaching out to straighten it.
"Not your fault," I murmur.
"I could stitch the collars of your shifts down if you think that might help," she says.
"Have we not tried that before?" I ask, thinking back over all the things my lady's maid has tried in order to help me with the uncomfortable sensations I get from clothing. I don't know what I'd do without her. Likely suffer far more than I already do.
"We have, but I've learned a few new techniques since then," she responds as she helps me into the rest of my clothing, tying and buttoning the various pieces into place. "Her Highness Princess Solana's maid taught me a trick they use in Someil, I think that might work."
"Maybe try it on one shift?" I suggest. "If it doesn't work, we'll only have ruined one."
"It will be reversible," Betsy assures me. "But I can have one ready for you to wear tonight, before you head down to the kitchens."
"Thank you." She gestures for me to sit at my dresser and starts doing my hair, being careful to keep her touches light. I hope Betsy never decides to leave service, because her ability to deal with my sensitivity issues is unparalleled.
Footsteps sound outside the room, and I frown, trying to work out who it might be.
"Would you..." I start to say to Betsy, only for my mother's reflection to appear in the mirror, cutting me off.
