A lot were off the table—I recoiled from the idea of opposing Dain, especially given what he had done, and was doing, to change himself from someone whose first reaction was to draw his sword into someone who would think first. And things like "siblings" definitely didn't fit, given how much I wanted to lick the man. But I was in significant danger of being madly in love with him, and I didn't know what would happen to us if I fell into that pattern with him. As much as I dreaded making the choice, I wanted it to be a choice. The locked door gave me enough distance to keep from waking up one morning, kissing his perfect mouth, and never stopping.

Dain asked for a crueler sort of distance, though for reasons that had far more to do with the truths he'd been forced to reveal at the Court of Mercy and far less with not wanting to kiss me forever. In private, he was affectionate and playful. He gave me four interesting rocks, three feathers, two small bones, and a lock of his hair as his tokens from his journey, and he spent a number of evenings declaiming the adventures of Regina as she was thoroughly deflowered, while I brushed copious amounts of shedding hair out of his long, voluminous tails. But in public?

We barely spoke to each other. Dain glowered at me from his throne during revels and sneered or snarled at me when we sat next to each other at banquets. On several occasions, he made cutting comments about me, things that were true but phrased with such vitriol that twice I ended up hiding so I could sob from the emotional impact. I tried out one barb of my own, but when I saw the flicker of pain as it landed, I couldn't handle trying again.

I flirted with two men and one of the women from the Court of Mercy, because they gave me interested eyes, and I laughed with glittering eyes when people asked if I was sorry King Omahice hadn't killed him. "Nobody gets to kill my soulmate but me" was the answer I gave most often, but "I sent him to stop a war; it would be a shame if I had to start one instead" might have slipped out once or twice.

Watching him over the weeks, I became incredibly proud of Dain. It was painfully obvious how awkward diplomacy was for him, and more than once I saw him automatically move towards violence before relaxing by sheer force of will, much to the ongoing astonishment of Stag Court and the Court of Mercy alike. I got a lot of stares directed my way every time he didn't throw someone into a wall for being nasty to him, and people kept escalating out of what had to be morbid curiosity.