A low laugh escapes him and my skin instantly pebbles at the rich sound.
Then he disappears, leaving me slack-jawed and staring at the closed door he exited through.
This is his room.
The thought echoes quietly in my chest. I’d shared a room with Torryn, but where he was hesitant, Riven is entirely sure. There will be no questioning whetherI’m sure, just the utter confidence that he knows this is exactly where I want to be.
The thought makes me huff, but his assurance isn’t completely off-base. I’ve never held my tongue if I don’t agree with something, so my silence tells him all he needs to know.
My fingers trail along the silk one last time before I cross the room and step barefoot into the adjoining space. The moment I enter, heat wraps around me, and my shoulders slump.
Steam coils along the tiled walls and gathers on the mirror above the long, black vanity. A porcelain tub, wide and deep enough for two, waits for me. I glance down at myself and feel a small sense of embarrassment at how dirty I am from my journey through the fae courts today.
“Yet he seemed completely blind to the grime,” I mutter as I undress, thinking of the way Riven’s eyes had practically devoured me on the spot.
The dress I wore through the fae courts is dusted with dried earth and old sweat, the hem frayed from brambles and roots. I hadn’t noticed how grimy I felt until now and how heavy my body had become beneath it all.
Somehow Sylvin and Riven never made me feel anything less than beautiful.
My head shakes of its own accord. “What is it with these kings?”
When I lower into the water, my breath leaves me in a slow exhale.
It’s hotter than I expected, not scalding enough to blister my skin, but enough to make me hiss. Almost instantly, the heat begins to chase the ache from my muscles, and the initial sting is a long-forgotten memory.
I close my eyes and fall into the lull of comfort this moment provides. There are no questions, kings, or expectations. Just the water enveloping my body and the soft flicker of candlelight along the walls.
For a moment, I think about the impending battle. I wonder if I’ll ever see Ilyria’s threads again, with a chance to help now that I know what happens. One by one, each of the kings roll through my mind, and I wonder what each of them is doing.
The warmth pulls at me slowly as my exhaustion finally silences my thoughts. My limbs feel heavy beneath the water and my conscience begins to drift, slipping away from me.
The glow of the candles fades behind my eyelids as they droop.
I don’t hear footsteps or register movement, but I feel him.
I blink my eyes open slowly, just in time to see his silhouette kneel at the edge of the tub.
“Wren,” he murmurs. “You can’t sleep in the bathtub, darling. It’s dangerous.”
The sound of my name on his lips draws a small smile to my face.
“I wasn’t asleep,” I whisper through the haze, “and how would you even know, unless you were staring at me from a corner again?”
He says nothing, just leans in and slides one arm behind my back, the other beneath my knees, moving so slowly I could stop him if I wanted, but I don’t. I’m starting to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms, held so protectively like I’m the most cherished thing in his life.
The water shifts around me as he lifts me free, cradling me against his chest for just a moment before he places me on my feet. The towel he must have prepared is already waiting, warm and soft as he wraps it securely around me, careful to shield every inch of skin.
His hands don’t linger. Not on the curve of my thigh, not on the dip of my waist. He moves with clinical precision as he dries me, but I hear the way his breath hitches faintly near my ear.
“You need to eat before you sleep,” he says softly before sweeping me back into his arms.
I swallow instinctively as my hunger reignites in my stomach at the reminder.
He sets me gently on the edge of the bed, with asoft command to get dressed before he disappears. The door clicks softly shut behind him, but the echo of his presence lingers in the warmth of the towel still pressed against my skin.
I exhale slowly, gathering the scattered pieces of myself he so easily breaks me into every time I’m near him.
My gaze turns toward the foot of the bed where a folded set of clothes rests, blending with the bedsheets. A soft pair of sleep shorts and a matching tank wait for me, delicate and thin as I run my fingers along them.
