“Anything you want.” It’s a simple statement that doesn’t even begin to cover what hedeserves.
In one fell swoop, Moth throws me over his shoulder. In a few giant steps, we’re on way back to the bed.
“This is so not what I meant!” I shout, giggling despite myself with every step.
Within seconds, we’re enveloped by pillows—together, my heels kicked off as my legs slide under the silky sheets.
“Fine,” I concede. “Just fiveminutes.”
Of course, it’s not five minutes. It’sneverfive minutes.
I’m glued to the bed like a pancake stuck on an ungreased skillet, and Moth is putting in little effort to be my spatula. This would happen to me. I’ve been transported to a literal fairytale land, and I am having the worst flare up of my life.
The guilt is making me feel even sicker—I’ve been burning the candle at both ends since we arrived, ignoring the fog in my brain, the ache in my joints, skipping pills, and eating whatever the heck I’ve wanted. This is my own damn fault! I helped plan half the ball, and I won’t evenbe there.
Moth should be dressed to the nines, meeting other royals and spinning me around the dance floor.
Instead, he’s reading from one of the books he snatched from the library. The deep rumble of his voice soothes my racing mind. I just wish it could soothe my aching joints, too.
Flare ups were bad enough in my human form, but now, instead of my arms and legs feeling like rusted tin in need of oil, my wings ache, making it impossible to get comfortable.
I lie on my stomach with pillows tucked under my legs and supporting the crook of my arms while Moth strokes my forearms with blunted claws.
It would feel nice if it wasn’tso awful.
“You should be at the party,” I whine, pushing againsthis chest.
He ignores me—no, that’s not true. He lets out a deep breath before continuing to read, and I sink closer to him.
“You’re the whole reason they’re having this ball. You can’t miss it because of me.”
“I am where I amrequired.”
Required…Like he’s here out of obligation, not because he wants to be.
“Moth, please just go. I’ll summon some energy and join you latertonight.”
Don’t let me ruin this for you.That’s what I want to say. He was born for this life, and I’ve kept him snuggled away in a cabin for a whole year. He can’t want to be here, not when there’s a giant celebration for him just outsidethe door.
“Do not act like it is a punishment for me to be lying next to you.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be having fun?” I ask, my eyes getting heavier by thesecond.
He holds up the book he is reading. “Yes. May Icontinue?”
A night of taking care of me can’t be what he wants. Why won’t he justbe honest?
“You really won’t go without me?”
“As you said, the celebrations will continue all night. If you are still feeling unwell by then… I suppose, for your sake, I will make an appearance.”
“Please.” I stretch, trying and failing to find a spot that’s comfortable. My head feels like there’s TV static at the base of my forehead, and my thoughts ping around, becoming harder and harder to grab onto. Despite everything he’s said, the guilt of him being here to take care of me is all-consuming.
I close my eyes, trying to tune out the sound of music echoing from somewhere in the castle.
“I’ll take a little nap, and we’ll go together, okay?” I say, snuggling in until I finally find a spot that’s comfortable. “Honestly, I don’t really want to be alone.” I yawn. The mental fog I’m wading through makes the words slip past my lips.
“And you will not be fora second.”
