“And you were worried about me!” she exclaimed. “Not so shareef after all, hm?”

He laughed in response.

“My intentions are pure as the snow that caps the heavenly mountaintops, princess,” he told her, grinning. “I have only brought you here because it is the last place anyone would look for you.”

“Mmhm,” she replied, unconvinced. “Sure.”

“Get comfortable,” he said, sitting down on a chair. “You can leave whenever you please.”

She would never leave, she thought, as she undid her dupatta and crown.

She undid her hair next, pulling out the pins and undoing braids until her unruly curls fell in a cascade down her back, brushing against her hips. Asfandyar watched her, eyes skimming the length of her.

She then took off the rest of her jewelry: the heavy gold jhumkay on her ears, the jewels around her neck. Her chudiyan made a soft chum-chum sound as they slipped from her wrists, leaving her skin bare. The only thing she left on was the Miangul family crest ring, which always sat on her right ring finger.

Finally, she undid the buttons and ribbons that tied her embroidered cloak-gown around her body. Beneath, she wore a satin slip and trousers.

“What are you doing?” Asfandyar choked. He had been watching her carefully until then.

“What you said: getting comfortable,” she replied, wiggling her brows at him. He turned to look the other way, his ears pink.

This man, too! She had never seen him shy before.

He sensed her noticing and got up to get something from his wardrobe. He handed her a folded shawl just as she released the weight of her gown from her shoulders.

“Wear this,” he said, not looking at her.

“No, thank you,” she replied politely. She took it and tossed the shawl onto the bed. She took a step closer, and his gaze raked over her body. He looked away again, ears a furious red.

His dimples made a brief appearance before disappearing again as she stepped toward him, crossing her arms.

He finally looked at her, biting back a laugh.

“Come on,” he said, voice sweet as he got up to offer her the shawl once more. “You’ll get cold.”

A smile was playing on both their lips; it felt like a great game. This time, Durkhanai pretended to consider it for a moment, before tossing it aside again.

“If I get cold, I have you to keep me warm, Asfi,” she said, winking. This time Asfandyar laughed, a wide grin engulfing his face. The same grin covering hers.

“Who are you?” he asked, eyes full of wonder. She stepped close to him and put her arms around his neck. He did not look away.

“Yours,” she replied. “As you are mine.”

He kissed her nose, and she wrinkled it in response, giggling.

“I’ll sit here,” he said, untangling her arms from him. He went to sit on the chair across from the bed. “You sit there.”