Chloe.
The corridors back to our chamber felt longer at night.
"The meat was good," I said.
Kieran glanced at me. "That's what you're thinking about."
"I'm allowed to think about multiple things."
"And the meat made the list."
"The meat made the top of the list," I said. "Whatever your kitchen did to it they should do it again. Frequently."
Something shifted at the corner of his mouth. "I'll pass that along."
"Please do."
We walked. Our footsteps echoed against the polished floors, candlelight along the walls throwing long shadows ahead of us. The palace at night felt different. Kinda heavier somehow, like it exhaled when the performance was over and became something older underneath.
Something calmer.
"Your palace is very tall," I said.
He looked at me.
"The ceilings," I clarified. "They're very high."
"Yes," he said slowly. "They are."
"Veylinthia's are not this high."
"I see."
"I'm just making an observation."
"About the ceilings."
"About the ceilings," I confirmed.
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "You're not as strange as I expected."
I turned to look at him. "That's an interesting thing to say."
"Is it inaccurate?"
....
"What were you expecting?" I asked.
He considered it. "Something quieter."
I laughed before I could stop it. A small genuine laugh.
Kieran looked at me when I laughed.
I looked away first.
We kept walking.
"Pierre—" I started.
"Don't."
"I was just going to say—"
"Whatever you were going to say about Pierre," he said, "save it for a time when I haven't just sat through two hours of dinner."
I looked at him. "You're tired?"
He said nothing.
Kieran is tired. I filed that away somewhere. A human thing. A normal thing. The god of war's rumored offspring needed sleep apparently.
"Fine," I said. "Pierre can wait."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
We turned a corner and our chamber door came into view at the end of the hall, and something in my chest did a quiet thing that I chose not to examine.
The chamber was exactly as we had left it. Big, crimson draped, chandelier light low and warm. The bed in the center of it all, four poster and ridiculous, taking up space the way thrones took up space.
I stepped inside.
And something settled within me.
It started to dawn on me
Nothing too serious. Just the quiet accumulated weight of the entire day landing somewhere behind my sternum all at once.
The palace. The king. Four brothers arranged like a problem across a dinner table. The nobles. The fork.
'Taking care of my wife.'
The sapphire still cool at my throat.
Okay, I thought.
Okay okay okay.
I set my things down and stood in the middle of the room and breathed and stared at a fixed point on the floor and thought about absolutely nothing in a very loud way.
"You're spiraling."
I turned.
Kieran was watching me from across the room, jacket off, that dark gaze quiet and steady.
"I'm processing," I said.
"You've been staring at the same point on the floor for thirty seconds."
Had I.
"I'm fine," I said.
He looked at me for a moment. Then, quietly and suddenly, "I meant what I said. In the car. Nothing happens that you don't want to happen. That doesn't change."
Oh.
Something in my chest loosened.
Just slightly.
"I know," I said.
"Do you?"
"Yes," I said. And meant it.
He held my gaze a moment longer. Then nodded once and moved toward the wardrobe like the conversation was complete and filed and done with.
I exhaled.
Okay. Good. Fine.
I changed out of the olive gown carefully—because the lacings were Kieran's work and I was not going to think about that—into something comfortable, and stood at the edge of the bed and looked at it.
Looked at the sofa against the far wall.
Perfectly reasonable sofa, I thought.
Sensible. Practical. Nobody could possibly object to—
"Don't."
I turned.
Kieran was looking at me with the expression of someone who had read every word of that thought before I finished thinking it.
"I was just—"
"My wife," he said, very calmly, "is not sleeping on the sofa."
"Your wife," I said, "is making an independent decision about her sleeping arrangements and—"
He crossed the room.
And before I could finish the sentence or form a counterargument or do anything useful at all, he picked me up.
Just like that.
Oh-
One arm under my knees, one at my back, completely unbothered, like I weighed nothing and the logistics of this were entirely beneath comment. He carried me to the bed and deposited me on it with the same calm energy he applied to everything and stepped back.
I lay there.
Stared at the ceiling.
Okay, something at the back of my head said.
Okay
I sat up, grabbed every spare pillow within reach. About four, which was frankly the bare minimum, and began constructing the wall.
Methodically AND seriously. With the full focus of someone doing something that mattered.
My pillar. My foundation. My reinforcement!
From his side of the bed I felt it before I heard it. That specific weight of being watched.
I turned.
Kieran was watching me build the pillow wall with an expression I had not seen on his face before.
Actual, genuine, quiet amusement. Not the ghost of it. Not the almost smile. The real thing, settled in his dark eyes like it had found somewhere comfortable and decided to stay.
"Structural integrity," I said, with complete dignity.
He said nothing.
He lay down on his side of the wall.
Looked at the ceiling.
I finished the wall, lay down, pulled the covers up, and stared at the canopy above me. The room was quiet. The palace beyond it quieter. Somewhere outside, wind moved through the towers and the candlelight guttered softly.
The sapphire necklace sat on the nightstand. I had taken it off carefully, set it down.
I was not going to think about where it came from.
I was totally thinking about where it came from.
Tomorrow, I told myself firmly. Tomorrow.
My eyes grew heavy before I finished the thought.
𓋫𓋫𓋫𓋫𓋫
The room was still and dark when Chloe's breathing finally evened out.
Kieran lay on his side of the wall. Four pillows, structurally sound, built with complete seriousness. He huffed and looked at the ceiling.
Then he turned his head.
Looked at her.
Looked away.
Outside, the wind moved through the towers of Caelorth. The palace settled into the deep quiet of very late. The candles burned low.
She kicked away one pillow in her sleep. He scoffed.
Thought nothing he intended to examine.
And the night passed.