Durkhanai hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. He was sitting on the seat in front of her, head bowed.

Suddenly feeling reckless, Durkhanai held him against her.

He hesitated for a moment, resisting, but then he sighed. She felt the energy seep from his skin as his arms came around her legs. He rested his brow against her belly, his nose grazing the soft skin above her waistline.

She was dressed but felt completely undressed, her limbs turning to liquid.

Durkhanai swayed, slightly. Asfandyar caught her arms, looking up. The contact was broken.

“You’ve overexerted yourself,” he told her. “Are you feeling faint?”

She nodded. He offered her his arm. Wordlessly, they walked back to her room.

A guard gave her a strange glance, but she was so disoriented, she barely waved him off. Asfandyar led her to her room, then waited by the door, unsure.

“Aaj jaane ki zid na karo,” she whispered. “Don’t go.”

He led her into bed, piling her blankets on top of her. She wanted so badly to sleep but felt she would miss something pertinent if she did.

“I’m supposed to drink that,” she said, seizing onto the excuse to point out an orange-yellow liquid in a teacup. She made a face.

It was turmeric mixed into warm milk and cardamom, mostly probably also mixed with other home remedy spices. Asfandyar brought it to her, and she shook her head.

“No,” she said, pouting. “It tastes horrid.”

Asfandyar gave her a face, and she turned her cheek, knowing she was acting like a child. She wanted to see if he would indulge her, and though he ordinarily wouldn’t, today he did.

He sat down on the corner of her bed. “Drink,” he said. She turned her cheek further away. “Tch, Durkhanai.”

Her name on his tongue sent a shiver through her. He put an arm over her legs for balance, curving his face over to meet hers.

“Mm-mn,” she whined. He shook his head at her.

“It isn’t so bad,” he said, taking a sip. He wrinkled his nose.

“See?” he said, but the word was a grimace. She giggled.

“Fine,” she replied. “But you have to drink it with me.”

“Alright,” he conceded.

Asfandyar brought the teacup to her lips, tipping it into her mouth. As the taste hit, she scrunched her nose, making a face, but he didn’t move the cup back. She put her hand over his on the cup, pressing down hard, and drank.

“Your turn,” she said, wiping her lip with her thumb. Durkhanai watched as he turned the cup to put his lips where hers had been. Not breaking eye contact over the cup, he drank.

Durkhanai suddenly felt very hot, especially under all the wool blankets and shawls. It was June, and the weather had only gotten hotter and hotter.

But she suspected it wasn’t the weather.