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“You will find better rest on my bed,” he tells me, and it’s a command, even if spoken with disinterest. “I ask nothing of your body this Quiet.”
That’s his mercy to me. He won’t take me as he wants to, as the fire in his eyes hungers for. He will let me slip away and hide under the sheets, be lost in nightmares, and rest my head on a thick, plush pillow that might offer me some comfort, any comfort at all.
I nod and back up from him. He watches me go.
I climb into his bed.
Being in the same chamber with him makes sleep hard to come by. But eventually I do drift off. I stir sometime during the Quiet to the prince slipping in behind me. He drapes his arm over my waist and pulls my back against his chest. His chin rests on the crown of my head.
My eyes flutter shut, and terrible dreams are quick to catch me.
All the while, the prince holds me.
