Page 95 of Of Curses and Courtship

“You didn’t seem to have any complaints about the mess.” He kisses the center of my chest, just between my breasts. “And you’re clean now.”

“That I am.” My brows scrunch together. “I don’t mean to ask a silly question of my own, but did you and Minetta ever…?”

I could be sick at the thought—and it is not from jealousy. The idea of Minetta touching him tenderly while lying to him makes me queasy.

“No,” he says. “Never. We shared two kisses, and I knew quickly that we would not have that sort of relationship.”

A soft wave of relief washes over me. “Then why did you continue your betrothal?”

He sighs. “For honor. Duty.”

“Things I do not understand.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment, little halfling. You’re the most honorbound, dutiful person I have the pleasure of knowing.”

I roll my eyes, though his words continue to tickle me. “You’ve already given me enough flattery for one evening. You may stop now.”

“I can’t stop speaking about how I feel for you until I finally fall asleep, but please trust me when I say: in the morning, I’ll have just as many praises to sing.”

Despite his claims, his words already sound soft, delirious with exhaustion.

I am moments from falling into slumber with him, with the weight of his body pressing me into the mattress.

Helena may worry about where I am. I told her I would be with the prince, but surely she didn’t consider how long I would be away. When he invited me to the garden, I certainly didn’t think that we would end the night in his bedchamber.

If anyone discovers I spent the night here…

“You must sleep,” I murmur. “Something tells me you’ve not slept well since you ran from me.”

“That would be correct.” He yawns. “Now that I’m with you, this may be the best sleep of my life.”

I shove his shoulders playfully. “You must move first, lest you crush me. You would not be pleased in the morning, would you?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t.”

His laughter, soft and sleepy, is the last thing I hear before I fall asleep in his arms. Though he’s often joked about his weak nature, I have never felt more protected than with his lithe form wrapped around mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

OPHELIA

The ticking grandfather clock tells me we slept in. That’s one failure of this palace, I suppose—the lack of sunlight means there’s nothing to wake me. If I had a choice, I would remain in Emyr’s bed for the rest of my days.

The thing that finally rouses me is a reminder of who I am and the duties that accompany it. I’m supposed to be cleaning and preparing for breakfast. Rolling around with the prince doesn’t give me an excuse to avoid my work.

I sit up and peer down at him. His white hair falls over his face, and his lips are parted, with soft breath coming through them.

I’ve never seen the prince look so restful. Even during the night we shared in the Mercury Palace, he didn’t look this at ease—he was still upright in the armchair when I woke.

That night, I wanted to be with him like this. I wanted him to kiss me, take me, and hold me. But even with the drink I’d consumed, I was too nervous to ask for what I desired. In the end, I didn’t have to make the request at all. He’s happy to give me what I want.

Sometimes, it feels as though our minds meld, and he knows what I want before I can speak my desires aloud.

I push the stray hairs away from his face and try to memorize the shape of his angular nose. I rub my finger along the bump and smile. Can we truly be this close? Can I touch him like this?

“What are you doing?” he mumbles. “Go back to sleep. It’s too early. If you’d like me to bring you to the brink of pleasure again, I’ll need another hour or so of rest.”

I roll my eyes. “It isn’t early, unless you consider half past ten early.”