Page 171 of Blood Curse

I found a clean cloth beside the washbasin, wet it and pressed the cloth to his lip.

“I can wipe my own mouth.”

“I know. I’m doing it because I want to.”

His hand settled over my wrist. He let me clean away the blood.

“You looked good up there,” I said.

“Being king?”

“Yes.”

His gaze sharpened. “For tonight.”

“Tomorrow they’ll ask again.”

“And you?”

“I’ll still call you Stellan.”

The Crown didn’t interfere as his thumb moved over the inside of my wrist. My pulse strengthened under the touch. Stellan heard the change. His pale eyes darkened, but he didn’t turn the moment into another question about my health.

“I’ve been thinking about my flat,” I said.

“You want to go back.”

“Yes.”

I dropped the cloth into the basin. “When this is over, I want to go home.”

Stellan’s hand stilled around my wrist.

“For how long?”

“Long enough to sleep in my bed, find out what’s rotting in the fridge and remember what my life looks like when the walls aren’t listening.”

He released me. “I’ll take you.”

“You’ll come with me.”

The difference landed. He glanced towards the door as if Harrowmere might object.

“The court will need⁠—”

“Mara can run it for one night. I want you in my flat with me.”

His hands closed around my waist. “And after the flat?”

“We come back if we choose. We leave again when we choose. You work out how to be king without becoming furniture, and I work out how much of Harrowmere I can stand when it isn’t trying to kill me.”

“You refused the queen’s title.”

“I still refuse it.”

“Good.”

“You sound relieved.”