KIERAN'S POV :
I'm going to murder whoever designed this bathtub.
It's not a bathtub. It's a swimming pool.
Marble and gold, sunk into the floor, with steps leading down into water that steams invitingly. Candles everywhere—hundreds of them—casting flickering shadows on walls carved with intricate designs. The ceiling is painted with constellations I don't recognize. Rose petals float on the water's surface.
It's romantic.
Which is suspicious.
After the teaching session with Ravion—where I spent two hours trying to explain Instagram and he looked at me like I was describing actual magic—I'd been escorted here by servants who kept giggling.
That should have been my first warning.
"Your Majesty," one of them—a young woman named Sera—had said with barely contained amusement. "The bath has been prepared according to tradition."
"Great. Thanks." I'd started to close the door.
"His Majesty will join you shortly."
I'd frozen. "What?"
"For the bathing ritual. It's tradition for newly married couples." She'd smiled innocently. "Surely Prince Kaelis explained this custom?"
"I'm not—" I'd stopped. Because everyone thinks I'm Kaelis. Everyone thinks this marriage is real. "Right. Yes. Tradition. Great."
She'd left, still giggling.
And now I'm standing here in a bathrobe that's way too fancy, staring at this stupid romantic bath, panicking.
Ravion is going to bathe with me.
As in, same bath.
As in, NAKED.
"Nope." I turn toward the door. "Absolutely not. I'll just—"
The door opens.
Ravion enters.
Also in a bathrobe.
We stare at each other.
"I can come back," he offers.
"YES! Come back! In like... three hours! Or never! Never is good!"
"Kieran—"
"I'm not doing this!" I'm backing away from him. Toward the bath. "This is—this is too much! We can't just—you can't—NAKED!"
"I'm aware of how bathing works."
"Then you should understand why this is a TERRIBLE IDEA!"
He closes the door behind him. Locks it.
My pulse skyrockets.
"It's tradition," he says calmly. "In Nocterra, married couples bathe together on their first week of marriage. It's a bonding ritual. Symbolic of..." He pauses. "Trust and intimacy."
"We don't have trust and intimacy!"
"No." His expression is unreadable. "But the kingdom thinks we do. And servants talk. If we don't follow tradition, it raises questions."
"Let them ask questions!"
"Questions lead to suspicions. Suspicions lead to people investigating our marriage. Investigating you." His red eyes hold mine. "Do you want that?"
Fuck.
He's right.
Again.
I hate when he's right.
"Fine," I mutter. "But rules. Many rules."
"Such as?"
"You stay on your side of the bath. I stay on mine. No—no looking."
"It's a bath, Kieran. Looking is inevitable."
"Then look at the ceiling!"
"I'm not going to stare at the ceiling while bathing with my husband."
"Fake husband!"
"The bond doesn't think it's fake." He steps closer. "Neither do the servants. Neither does anyone in this kingdom." Another step. "For tonight, can we just... pretend it's real?"
"Why?"
"Because it's easier." His voice goes soft. "And because I find I'm... tired of pretending I don't want this."
My breath catches.
"Want what?"
"You." Simple. Direct. Devastating. "Here. Close. Without walls between us for once."
The bond sings in my chest.
"I..." I swallow hard. "Rules. We still need rules."
A small smile touches his lips. "Agreed."
We both face away from each other to remove our robes.
Like awkward teenagers.
I'm twenty-two years old and I've never felt more like a virgin in my life.
I hear the water ripple as Ravion enters the bath. Hear his quiet sigh of satisfaction.
"You can turn around," he says. "I'm... decent."
I turn slowly.
He's submerged to his chest, sitting on one of the underwater benches, arms spread along the edge. His black hair is already wet, slicked back from his face. Those red eyes watch me with something between amusement and hunger.
The candles cast shadows across his pale skin, highlighting the dark marks I now realize are definitely tattoos—intricate patterns that wind across his shoulders and chest.
He's beautiful. I hate that I notice.
"Are you getting in?" he asks. "Or just planning to stand there all evening?"
"Shut up," I mutter, and practically dive into the water on the opposite side.
The bath is huge. We're easily ten feet apart.
It doesn't feel like enough distance.
The water is perfect—hot but not scalding, scented with something like sandalwood and spice. I sink down until only my head is above water, grateful for the coverage.
"See?" Ravion says. "Not so terrible."
"It's terrible."
"You're very dramatic."
"I'm appropriately dramatic for the situation!"
He laughs—soft, genuine. "Fair enough."
We sit in silence for a moment. Steam rises between us. Rose petals drift lazily across the water's surface.
"So," I finally say. "How long does this 'tradition' last?"
"As long as we want." He pauses. "Though typically at least an hour."
"AN HOUR?!"
"It's meant to be relaxing."
"Nothing about this is relaxing!"
"That's because you're sitting there wound tighter than a bowstring." He shifts position. "Come closer."
"NO."
"Kieran—"
"I'm FINE over here!"
"The servants prepared oils. For washing. It's part of the ritual."
I stare at him. "Washing."
"Yes."
"As in... washing each other?"
"That's typically how it works with couples, yes."
"ABSOLUTELY NOT."
"It's tradition—"
"I don't CARE if it's tradition! —we are NOT washing each other!"
Ravion looks genuinely amused now. "You're blushing."
"I'm NOT!"
"Your face is very red."
"That's the STEAM!"
"Is it?"
"YES!"
He's definitely smiling now. "We don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."
"It makes me VERY uncomfortable!"
"Noted." He leans back, closing his eyes.
"Then we'll just... sit. And relax."
"Finally. Some sense."
We sit in silence.
It should be awkward.
But it's also... kind of nice?
The water is soothing. The candles are peaceful. And Ravion isn't being pushy or demanding. Just... there. Present.
"Can I ask you something?" His voice breaks the silence.
"Depends on the question."
"Earlier. When you were explaining your world. You said you felt like you were drowning."
I tense. "Yeah."
"What did you mean?"
I'm quiet for a long moment. Considering whether to answer honestly.
"Everyone expected things," I finally say. "My parents wanted me to be successful. My professors wanted excellence. My friends wanted me to be fun and available. Everyone wanted something and I felt like..." I trail off.
"Like you were being pulled in too many directions?"
"Yeah." I look at him. "Is that stupid?"
"No." His expression is serious. "I know exactly how that feels."
"You're a king. Everyone probably expects things from you all the time."
"Constantly." He shifts in the water. "Be strong. Be ruthless. Be the Dark King everyone fears. Never show weakness. Never hesitate. Never be human." He pauses. "It's exhausting."
"Yeah," I say softly. "It is."
Our eyes meet across the water.
"Come here," Ravion says quietly.
"Why?"
"Because the bond is pulling and you're clearly uncomfortable over there and I promise I won't—" He stops. "I just want you closer. Please."
He said please... The Dark King said please.
I move before I can overthink it. Crossing the bath. Settling on the bench beside him—not touching, but close. Close enough that I can feel his body heat even through the water.
The bond relaxes.
"Better?" he asks.
"...Maybe."
His hand finds mine under the water. Threads our fingers together.
"Is this okay?"
I should say no. Should pull away. Instead: "Yeah. It's okay."
We sit like that. Hand in hand...
"Thank you," Ravion says eventually.
"For what?"
"For trying. With the tradition. With..." He squeezes my hand. "With me."
"You kidnapped me."
"I did."
"Forced me to marry you."
"Yes."
"Bound me with blood magic."
"All true."
"I should hate you."
"You should." His thumb brushes across my knuckles. "Do you?"
I think about it. Really think.
"I'm supposed to," I say slowly. "And part of me does. But part of me..." I trail off.
"What?"
"Part of me understands why you did it. The prophecy. The curse. You were desperate." I look at him. "Doesn't make it right. But I... get it."
Something in his expression breaks.
"Kieran—"
"Don't." I squeeze his hand. "Don't apologize again. I know you're sorry. I know you'd undo it if you could. But we're here. Bound. Stuck." I take a breath. "So maybe we just... try to make it bearable. Like you said."
"Bearable," he repeats. "Is that what this is?"
"I don't know what this is." Honest. Raw. "But sitting here with you, holding your hand, not fighting for once..." I pause. "It doesn't feel terrible."
"High praise."
"Shut up."
He laughs—soft and warm—and pulls me closer. Until I'm tucked against his side, his arm around my shoulders.
I should protest.Instead, I let myself relax.
The bond hums contentedly between us.
"We should get out soon," Ravion murmurs. "Before the water gets cold."
"Five more minutes."
"Okay," he agrees.
And we sit there, tangled together in rose-scented water, neither of us willing to break the moment.
Later, dried and dressed in sleep clothes, we climb into bed.
Same bed but Closer than last night.
Ravion pulls me against him immediately—arm around my waist, chin resting on top of my head.
"This is becoming a habit," I mutter.
"Is that a problem?"
"...No."
"Good." He presses a kiss to my hair.
"Goodnight, Kieran."
"...Goodnight."
I fall asleep wrapped in the Dark King's arms...