Page 70 of Crown of the Dunes

“Then you underestimate how nice it is to braid Alza’s mane.”

I snorted, but my voice was breathy as I responded. “Did you just compare me to your horse?”

“It’s a compliment,” he defended, and I knew it was true.

For a few seconds, I let my mind drift as he separated my hair into sections with heart aching care. My eyes drifted closed, and my world narrowed to the warm touch of his fingers on my scalp.

“My mother used to wear braids.” His voice was so low, I could have convinced myself I imagined it, if not for the twinge of bittersweet pain that echoed through the magic around us. I did not speak, almost holding my breath as I waited for him to continue. He rarely referred to Queen Ginevra as his mother, and this moment seemed as ephemeral as the tiny drops of moisture that would gather on leaves at the oasis in the rainy season, only to be burned away by the heat of the midday sun.

“She taught me how to braid her hair,” he admitted. “She could tell that having something to do with my hands helped—that sitting still made everything worse, louder. Like how sharpening my saber always helped me.”

A sharp sensation filled my throat as I tried to swallow, remembering how elaborate Queen Ginevra’s hairstyles had always been. They must have taken a long time to weave together—perhaps devised to offer her son a few extra moments of peace.

“Her hair was always beautiful,” I murmured.

“Yours is even more lovely,” he commented, taking a moment to rub a strand between his fingers. “I like the way you’ve been braiding it to one side. I’m surprised you were having trouble with it tonight.”

I ducked my head in embarrassment. “Well… it’s been longer than I thought since I held a saber for that long. My, ah—my arms are so sore that I was having trouble holding them up long enough to do it.”

He hummed in thought, continuing to methodically weave together the strands of my hair so they draped over one half of my head. Tingles danced over my skin at the sensation of being cared for—cherished.

My eyes burned, and I blinked rapidly as he reached the end of my hair, offering him the length of cord over my shoulder. He plucked it and tied off my braid in a neat knot, but his fingers lingered.

As he draped the finished plait over my shoulder, his warm fingertips danced over the joining between my neck and shoulder. Lightly, he pressed his thumb into the meat of the muscle there, and a half-pained moan escaped me.

After hours of taking turns facing off against Aderyn and him today, soreness had already taken up residence in my muscles.

Erix pressed more firmly, dragging his thumb in a small circle around the hardened knot in my shoulder. His other hand came up to mirror the action on the other side, and my lashes fluttered under the attention. The heat from his touch seeped through my skin and spread down to my toes as he coaxed the soreness from my aching limbs.

A soft sigh escaped my lips, and I leaned back against him, letting his torso support my shoulders as he worked his way down my arms. Now that he was expelling the residual tension I held on to, it seemed that it had been all that was keeping me awake.

My eyelids grew heavy, and I could no longer suppress a jaw-cracking yawn.

Erix’s hands disappeared, and I blinked groggily. “Hopefully that will help with the soreness so we can spar again tomorrow.”

Cloth rustled as he moved to step away. I reached out, fingers grabbing on to the edge of his tunic.

“Stay. Please,” I said. I toyed with the edge of the fabric in my grasp as I met his gaze in the mirror.

We had slept side by side under the stars many times, but this request felt weightier somehow. As if the stone walls surrounding us gave more meaning to our actions—my desire for closeness. Having him near now would only make it harder if he were torn from my side again, but I couldn’t help myself.

Slowly he nodded. I shifted in my seat, but before I had moved to stand, he bent forward. On arm came around my back while he slid the other under my knees and lifted me from the stool.

A soft squeak that was distinctly un-queenly escaped me, but for the moment, that didn’t matter as Erix cradled me to his chest and walked toward the bed. He climbed onto it on his knees, so he could lay me down on the nest of pillows at the head. I dug my fingers into his tunic, pulling him down with me, so we laid side by side with my forehead resting against his sternum.

“I’m filthy from the stables,” he protested with no force. “I’m going to get your bed dirty.”

I hummed dismissively. “I prefer sleeping outdoors anyway. You’re just bringing the outdoors inside to me.”

A soft exhale that might have passed as the beginning of a laugh escaped his chest. “You truly are a feral little creature.”

“I have to be to keep up with a monster like you.” I wrapped my arms around him, and my palms rested flat on his back. The texture of the methodical raised ridges marching across his shoulder blades pressed through his shirt. A hollow burning in my gut at the thought of how they got there began rising, interrupting my pleasant sleepiness.

Erix twitched, and I realized I had projected my anger across the bond between us.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

His arms tightened around me, strong as metal bands but still somehow comforting. “Don’t be. I’ve been angry at everything for so long. It’s nice to have somebody be angry for me.”