Page 64 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
"Are you all right?" he asked, brushing hair back from my face.
I nodded, not trusting my voice yet. My whole body hummed with aftershocks of pleasure, my mind still trying to catch up with what had just happened.
He adjusted my gown, smoothing the fabric with tender care before fixing his own clothing. His crown had fallen completely askew, and I reached up to straighten it, my fingers trembling slightly.
"We should probably return to the celebration," I managed, though the last thing I wanted was to face a crowd right now. "Before someone comes looking for us."
"Let them look." He pulled me close again, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "But yes, we should after we clean up. There are still matters to attend to before dawn.”
We made our way back through the narrow passage, and I was grateful for the dim lighting that hid the flush still burning in my cheeks. My legs felt unsteady, and Vetle kept his arm around my waist—whether to support me or simply because he wanted to touch me, I couldn't say. Perhaps both. And I didn’t mind either.
He guided me to a small washroom off one of the adjoining corridors. The space was simple but functional, with a basin of clean water and soft grey towels stacked on a shelf. I cleaned myself as best I could, my hands still trembling slightly as I straightened my gown and tried to tame my hair.
When I emerged, Vetle was waiting, looking as composed as if we'd simply stepped away for a quiet conversation rather than—I pushed the thought away before the heat could return to my face. Had we really just done that? The blush returned in full force.
He offered his arm, and I took it, letting him lead me back toward the courtyard. The music grew louder as we approached, accompanied by laughter and the sound of many voices talking over one another.
We stepped through the archway, and I braced myself for stares, for knowing looks, for some sign that everyone knew exactly what we'd been doing. But the celebration was in full swing, and everyone seemed content to let us keep our dignity.
More or less.
Candice flashed me a knowing smile that made my cheeks burn hotter. Doctor Rasoul was still hovering near his plant, but when I glanced in his direction, he was chuckling about something.
Vetle led me back onto the dance floor as the music shifted to something livelier. Other couples whirled around us, their movements fluid and elegant. I stumbled slightly, still not quite steady on my feet, and he caught me with ease.
"Tired already?" His voice held a teasing edge as he pulled me close.
"Whose fault is that?" I shot back, then immediately regretted it as his eyes darkened with satisfaction.
He spun me gently, and I focused on matching his steps, on the rhythm of the drums and the haunting call of the flute. Around us, the celebration continued—children darting between dancers, guards standing watch along the walls, the scent of roasted meat and mushrooms drifting from the tables.
Osric appeared beside us, tugging on Vetle's outer robe. "Look!" He thrust another painting toward us, this one showingwhat looked like the palace under a bright sun, colors blazing across the canvas. "I did another one."
Vetle smiled down at him, genuine warmth softening his features. "It's beautiful, Osric. You've outdone yourself."
“When we’re in the Waking Lands, I want to get all of the colors.” He beamed, then darted away again.
Vetle and I danced through several more songs, and I found myself relaxing into the rhythm, into the strength of his arms around me.
I let myself sink into this moment, into the feeling of being loved and wanted and safe in his arms.
The music swelled, and he dipped me low, his face hovering above mine as his eyes glinted with focused desire. When he pulled me back up, I was breathless and laughing, my earlier nervousness forgotten.
"I could dance with you forever," I whispered against his ear.
His arms tightened around me. "Then let's make forever happen."
The blood moon had sunk lower on the horizon now, its dull red glow deepening to crimson as it prepared to set. I caught glimpses of it between the palace towers, counting down our remaining time.
How many hours did we have left? Twenty? Sixteen? And how many before we knew whether this plan would work.
My heart clenched, my mouth going dry. Fear threatened to overwhelm me.
"What are you thinking?" Vetle asked, his hand pressing firm against my lower back and keeping me fully against him.
"That I want more time with you," I admitted softly, unable to speak of what I feared would actually happen. "More nights like this. More mornings waking up beside you. More everything."
"You'll have it." His voice held such certainty that I almost believed him. "Whatever happens tomorrow, I will make sure you have a future.”
