Page 109 of Scars and Crowns

She takes one deep breath before looking toward the door. "Can you bring Sara to me?" Her voice is quiet again.

"I need to see her. I need to hold her. I know everyone keeps telling me she's alright..." She exhales weakly, "...but I need to feel it myself."

I nod immediately. "Of course."

I lean down before leaving. Press one slow kiss against her forehead. I don't rush away. I stay there for one heartbeat longer than necessary, letting my lips rest against her skin, silently thanking every god willing to listen that she's still here for me to kiss at all. Then I straighten, squeeze her hand once, and go to bring our little girl back to her mother.

TO EARN YOU

ANAMIKA

Sara is asleep by the time the house finally quiets down.

After insisting she deserved three extra bedtime stories because surviving what she's already proudly calling her "big adventure" clearly earned her special treatment, she'd fought sleep with every ounce of determination she possessed. In the end, exhaustion won anyway. The last story had barely reached the middle before her words blurred into sleepy murmurs, her tiny hand still wrapped around mine as she drifted off.

Now the palace feels different.

Still.

The sort of silence that only arrives after everyone has finally exhaled following a frightening day.

I've changed into fresh clothes, washed the smell of lake water from my skin, and dried my hair only enough that the damp ends still cling coolly to the back of my neck. I curl up in one corner of the sofa near the window, pulling my legs underneath me, letting myself simply breathe for the first time since the afternoon.

I hear the door open softly.

Yuvaan walks in without saying anything, fresh from his own shower, sleeves rolled to his forearms, his hair still slightly damp. He doesn't reach for paperwork. Doesn't look at his phone.

Instead, he comes straight to me.

He lowers himself beside me until our shoulders brush lightly, and for a long moment he doesn't speak. I glance sideways. He's already looking at me. Not intensely. Not searching for anything. Just . . . looking. As though reassuring himself I'm actually here.

"Daisy." The nickname is soft enough that it almost disappears into the quiet room.

"Hm?"

"I want to ask you something." Something in his voice makes me sit up a little straighter. Not because it sounds serious exactly . . . but because it sounds careful. The way he speaks when he's been carrying a thought around for hours and has finally decided to let someone else see it.

"Of course."

He rubs absentmindedly at his thumb for a second before looking back at me. "If we weren't already married . . . " A tiny smile appears at the corner of his mouth. " . . . how would you like me to ask you out?"

I stare at him. "What?"

He laughs quietly under his breath. "I've been thinking about it all evening."

His gaze drops briefly to our joined shoulders before returning to mine. "I've loved you for so long." He says it so simply now. As naturally as breathing. And somehow those words still find entirely new places inside me every single time.

"But I never got to court you." His voice grows quieter. "There was never a chance."

"We were children..."

"...then there was that train platform..."

"...then seven years where I only knew you through memories..."

"...and after that..."

His smile turns faintly crooked.