Page 61 of Wrath of the Never Queen

“Would you like me to help?” he asks.

“Is that proper?” I reply, even though having him sleeping in my bed while unmarried makes it a moot point.

“It is practical.” Theo shrugs.

Exasperated, I put my hands on my hips.

“Very well! My dignity went out of the window long ago, apparently.” I turn and put my back to him so he can unfasten the knot. When he steps behind me, I feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, and I close my eyes as goosebumps spring up.

I vaguely feel him moving the ribbon through the thick fabric of my bodice, but I am distracted by the closeness of his mouth to the nape of my neck. He reaches up to brush my hair over the front of my shoulder, which I believe makes it easier for him to see what he is doing, but for me, all the feeling has left my legs.

My knees buckle slightly, and I catch myself almost immediately, but Theo places a hand on my waist to steady me. His hand is warm even through the dress, and his grip isfirm. I fear my legs will give way again at any moment.

Fortunately for me, he manages to untie the knot and I feel him pulling the ribbon back, unlacing it in one smooth movement. The bodice eases its grip on my torso and slides down slightly. I put my hands on my chest, holding it up.

“There,” he whispers and I desperately try to clear the fog appearing in my head. He steps back as I turn.

“My thanks,” I say hoarsely.

He inclines his head before retreating to the washroom, closing the door behind him. I am left feeling…I am not quite sure what. I want him to go in the washroom while I change to retain my modesty, but I also want him to stay and remove the rest of my dress for me, using the same soft but firm touch he used before. I close my eyes, picturing it.

“Shivani, are you ready?” he calls through the door and I jump. How long have I been standing here, daydreaming?

“One moment,” I call back, flustered. I drop my dress and hurriedly replace it with my nightgown. I have several to choose from, and in a moment of madness, I pick the most immodest one available. The white fabric stands in stark contrast to my mahogany skin, with a low neckline and a hem falling just short of my knees. The clinging fabric hugs the shape ofmy hips and breasts in a way that is completely indecent. I think how scandalised anyone would be knowing I was willingly wearing this in front of a prince, unmarried and alone at night in my chambers. A tumble between commoners is one thing, but to act this way with royalty is entirely different. Instead of the expected shame, there is a secret thrill, not altogether unpleasant.

Although…would anyone be truly scandalised? The king sent me to his son for this exact reason, after all. I make the decision to cast off my worries and do exactly what I want.

“You may come out now,” I call through the door, trying to keep my tone light.

I wait for him, hands clasped behind my back as he steps through. When he does, he freezes in the doorway, mouth open and eyes wide.

He first catches sight of my nightgown before his eyes snap up to fix on mine. He says nothing for a moment, his mouth closing and opening several times. I wait patiently for him to gather his bearings, trying not to show how pleased I am.

“You are…dressed,” he eventually says, his voice thick. He manages to drag his eyes up to mine and glues them there.

“Yes,” I say simply and turn to climb under the heavy covers of my bed.

Theo seems to shake himself out of it and follows me, but his ears are tinged with pink, andhe now avoids looking at me completely.

“I must apologise,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do not have any night clothes with me.”

“Oh, I suppose not.” I sit up in bed, contemplating this. “Well…what would be most comfortable for you?”

Theo’s face turns a bright shade of crimson, and he shuffles uncomfortably.

“I am afraid it would not be decent, Miss Shivani,” he says, his awkwardness allowing his old formalities to slip back in. My lips shape the letter ‘o’ as I realise what he means. I think about it for a moment before coming to a decision.

“Theo,” I say firmly. “I think we are already far past modesty for modesty’s sake. I believe you would not do anything untoward, regardless of how either of us is dressed. Or…undressed.”

The last few words come out in a breathy husk as my mind is invaded with images of Theo sleeping nude. I try my best to push them out but I cannot deny the look he is giving me has emboldened me in new ways.

“Well…” He hesitates a moment, and I hold my breath. Slowly, he reaches up and starts unbuttoning his tunic.

I know I should look away, but I find myself enraptured. Theo keeps his eyes on me while I watch his fingers move further and further down his tunic. It opens, and he shrugs it off, leaving his white undershirt. I look at himthen, a question in his eyes. I give a small nod.

Theo’s fingers reach to the bottom of his undershirt, and he tugs upwards. I inhale sharply as his bare torso is exposed, fair and smooth. The muscles in his stomach and chest move hypnotically as he pulls further up, sliding the undershirt over his head and letting it fall to the floor.

I unabashedly drink in the sight of him—the smattering of fair hair across his chest, trailing down to his stomach. He is somewhere between soft and defined, and I fight hard not to reach across and place my hand on him. I swallow hard.

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