Thorne shakes out my hair. “Much better,” he growls, running the strands through his fingers. When the silky locks bore him, he moves his hands to my shoulders and massages the knots out of my neck. I moan in appreciation. “I must know—what do you think the temperature of the sea water is right now? Swimmable for a Velmaran with very little cold tolerance?” he asks, and I laugh.

“I should’ve known you’d be drawn to the water.”

“I love the water, especially the open sea. It’s one of my favorite places to think.”

“I prefer my water heated. A hot spring or a bath.”

He laughs at that remark. “I’ve noticed, witchling,” he murmurs in my ear, and I shiver.

“To answer your question, I think the water might still be too cold for a Velmaran. But us Thayarians love the bite this time of year, so maybe you need to try it out anyway.”

“Only if you come with me,” he whispers, and I swallow before nodding, imagining us taking a dip in the frigid waters in nothing but our undergarments.

We stay there until the sun sets, trading flirtatious comments and toeing the line of propriety with our touches. Meera arrives and clears her throat, causing me to practically leap from the chair in my embarrassment of what she’s seen, despite my earlier statement to Thorne.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness,” she says with a small dip of her head. “Your rooms are ready, and dinner will be served soon.”

“Thank you, Meera,” I tell her, my cheeks heated. She walks away with a mischievous smile on her face, like she knows exactly what’s going on and plans to tell the entire staff. I sigh, and Thorne takes his time standing, stretching his arms over his head.

“Shall we?” he asks. I nod and lead him back inside and down the left hallway, stopping at a door carved with azaleas.

“This is your room,” I inform him, though I instantly regret my words when I see the way his face falls.

“And would you like me to go there now?” His voice is tentative and uncertain, so unlike the male I know him to be that it gives me butterflies. Without thinking, I shake my head, and he gives me a dazzling grin that takes my breath away. “Lead the way to your suite, then, witchling.”

We walk to the end of the hall, to a set of wooden double doors carved in intricate designs of thayar flowers, laurel wreaths, and mountains. I push them open, bracing myself for the suite that’s filled with too many memories. Several rooms make up my parents’ former apartment. A sitting room with a small dining table, two offices, a bedroom, and a bathing chamber. I swallow, unable to hide the nervous energy this place brings to me.