Page 146 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

He carried her inside and kicked the door closed behind them with his foot, then finally set her down beside the massive four-poster bed.

Caroline looked around, taking in the space. She'd never been in his private chambers before. It was surprisingly tidy, everything in its place, but with small personal touches—books stacked on the nightstand, a sword mounted on the wall, a map of the Frostmarch territories spread across a desk.

"I've wanted to bring you here," Caspian said quietly, watching her explore with her eyes. "To share this space with you. But you were so..." He trailed off.

"Hostile?" Caroline supplied. "Resentful? Terrible?"

"Unreachable," Caspian corrected gently. "I didn't know how to bridge that distance."

Caroline turned to face him. "And now?"

"Now there's no distance," Caspian said, stepping closer. "Now you're here. With me. Choosing this."

He reached up and began unpinning her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. His fingers were gentle, reverent, as if she were something precious.

"I want to do this right," Caspian said softly. "Our wedding night. The night we should have had if everything hadn't gone so wrong."

Caroline's throat tightened with emotion. "Caspian..."

"Let me make love to you," he continued, his voice low and intense. "Not in a garden where we might be interrupted. Not rushed or hidden. Here. In my bed. Where I can take my time. Where I can show you exactly how much I want you. How much I choose you."

Caroline felt heat flood through her at his words, at the promise in his eyes.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I want that. I want you."

Caspian smiled—that rare, genuine smile that transformed his usually severe features—and kissed her.

This kiss was slow, thorough, full of promise and intent.

His hands moved to the tie of her robe again, slipping it off her shoulders and letting it pool on the floor. Her nightgown followed moments later.

Caroline reached for his shirt, tugging it free, running her hands over the muscled planes of his chest and shoulders. He was beautiful—all lean strength and controlled power.

Caspian guided her backward until her legs hit the bed. She sat, then scooted back as he followed, his weight settling over her, his silver hair falling forward like a curtain around them.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes traveling over her face, her body, lingering on the small swell of her belly where their child grew. "So beautiful."

His hand spread across her stomach, gentle and possessive at once.

"Our child," he said softly. "Our future."

"Our choice," Caroline added.

"Our choice," Caspian agreed.

He leaned down and kissed her again, deeper this time, his body pressing against hers in ways that made coherent thought difficult.

The moonlight streaming through the windows cast silver patterns across the bed. The night was quiet around them, the rest of the estate asleep.

This moment was theirs. Only theirs.

"I'm going to make you happy," Caspian promised against her lips. "Every day. For the rest of our lives."

"You already do," Caroline whispered.

"Then I'll make you happier," he said, and there was that smile again.

Caroline laughed softly, pulling him down into another kiss.