The bed smelt like him, vanilla and the faintest scent of rum. The heavy beats in her heaving chest slowed until it came to an eventual stop.

She was safe. She wasn’t in an unknown place; Kellan had likely carried her so she wouldn’t have to sleep on the small couch. She looked over and found the other side of the bed had not been slept in.

She sagged back under the covers. Her hand found itself underneath the pillow; she felt something hard and cool on her fingertips; she grasped it, sliding it out to find a dagger.

She knew it was his favourite one. He took it with him everywhere.

But she had never seen it up close. Its blade was shaped like a rippling wave, the hilt gilded with gold. On closer inspection, she saw a crown made of flames engraved in the blade, the royal crest of Zakros.

She didn’t wonder why Kellan slept with a dagger, she knew why. Growing up with the family he had, she would have likely slept with a loaded gun underneath her pillow. But she would have to ask him about it later. She felt an incessant need to know everything about him.

Bethan rubbed her temple to soothe the oncoming headache. She hadn’t felt that sluggish and gross since her first hangover. But the pain was tenfold.

She took in the room’s surroundings; the bedside table was neat, with a stack of four books sitting straight and perfectly in line with the alarm clock and water bottle. She unscrewed the bottle cap and was relieved to discern it was only water. She was wholeheartedly shocked that Kellan kept his bedroom so clean when the rest of his apartment looked like a hoarder’s dream.

Kellan—

Kellan reading to her brought her to a peaceful sleep.

Her cheeks burnt red. She screamed into her pillow when she decided to face her embarrassing state the night before.

Stepping out towards the living room, she saw poor Kellan sprawled on the couch with his long legs hanging over the armrest. His mouth was wide open, letting out quiet snores. Her eyes trailed to the open book sitting on his chest. She cringed, seeing that it was the one he had read to her last night. She tiptoed toward the sleeping prince and picked the book up.

She marked the page with a random scrap of paper on his coffee table and set the book down. She cursed the Trine again for her lack of magic, since using it would have allowed her to do it without rousing him awake.

As if he had a sixth sense, Kellan’s eyes shot open at the sound of the book being put down on the wood table.

She murmured an apology for waking him, but he only huffed and closed his eyes again. She stood there, with widened eyes, not knowing what to do or where to go. Bethan thought it’d be weird if she left the apartment without telling him; she also didn’t want to face her nosy roommates or deal with Agatha, likely telling Tharin that she slept over at his house. Even though nothing happened between them, Tharin and Agatha would assume.