"No," our prince said. "That's the coward's way out." He leaned back up and looked down into my eyes. "The gates of my heart should be opened by me." With a sad smile, he looked back over at Alluin. "But if I cannot manage it, and in the final hours it is necessary for someone to step in, then I release you from the promise you made me, and ask that you turn the key for me."

"It would be my honor," Alluin said.

Dain nodded after a moment, then looked back down at me. "I ask for patience from you, beloved," he said with a soft smile. "I am not terribly adept at baring my heart. Will you be disappointed if it's Alluin who tells you, in the end?"

"No," I said, smiling up at him. "But that's because you've asked him to. It's not a flaw to ask friends and loved ones to help us when we can't do things on our own."

"Mm," Dain said, resettling me and setting his chin on my head. "I still would prefer to do it myself."

"No doubt," I said cheerfully, and flashed a grin at Alluin, who smiled back with a fond expression. "But for now, let's just enjoy this excellent scotch our wonderful General Xilsatra has graced us with, and determine how we can avoid getting murdered for the next week or so."

"At your service, your highnesses," Alluin said with a smile, and we settled back in to figure out what to do for the rest of Dain's regency.

50. Where There's Smoke...

Chapter 50

Where There's Smoke...

I felt a little bit less like absolute shit the next day, assisted by a nightmare-free night of sleep and a deliciously hot shower in the morning. The thought of trying to face down any of the three people who'd been involved in drugging me and trying to kill Dain, though, made the whole world wash out into gray blurs and the roaring of my heartbeat, and Dain ended up lying in bed with me for almost an hour, soothing me through a panic attack while I hyperventilated and dug my fingernails so deeply into his wrists that I drew blood. He never flinched.

It had to be done, but it didn't have to be me walking in and confronting them, looking at those faces and putting them onto the vague haze of my memories while they stared back. When, half on the edge of panic, I described police interrogation rooms, Dain stopped me with a finger on my mouth.

"Would you feel safe if there was a wall between the two of you?" he asked. "I can put up a glamor that is a solid wall to anyone on my side, and translucent on the other side. You'd be able to hear and see them, but nobody would be able to hear or see you."