“These were my parents’ rooms. I’ve had them completely remodeled and redecorated, but it’s still hard for me to be in here sometimes.” The admission should shock me, but at this point I’m desensitized to the way Thorne’s presence makes me open up parts of myself I thought were long buried. He only kisses my hand.

“Why not stay somewhere else? I’m sure the servants could prepare other rooms.”

“Because I—I think I’d like to make happy memories here,” I whisper. “I used to love sneaking in to snoop through their offices. My father kept a small jar of my favorite candy he would always hide in different places in his office for me to find.” I smile at the memory. “And this small balcony over here.” I gesture to my right. “This is where I read my first saucy book, in the summer sunshine. I remember being so worried my parents would step away from their work and look over my shoulder.” Thorne laughs, deep and throaty. “I modeled my bathing chamber in the Arberly palace off the bathing chamber here, when I renovated the rooms usually reserved for the Chair of the Council of Advisors.”

“I knew you couldn’t have been staying in the royals’ suite,” he says loudly, as if I’ve answered a question he’d been pondering for months.

“I don’t use their suite at the palace. It’s… it’s where they died,” I whisper again. “So, I’ve always just used the rooms down from the Council chambers.” He touches his forehead to mine.

“I’m in awe of you, your strength and your resilience.”

“Thorne…” I sigh his name. “There’s—there’s something I need to tell you. That I want to tell you, but that I’m terrified to trust you with,” I admit, my heart racing.

“Whatever it is, it won’t change how I feel about you. That I can promise. And you can take all the time you need,” he promises, squeezing my hands. I nod, looking into the pools of olive and mossy green staring back at me. There’s a knock on the door, and we both jump. I clear my throat.

“Come in,” I say with a voice that sounds guilty. So much for keeping this from them. Meera, along with several other servants, brings in endless trays filled with steaming food, laying the dining table with the spread. “This is incredible. Thank you. Please, take the evening off. We have everything we need.” Meera nods, and the servants leave quietly. “I’m actually starving,” I tell Thorne, grateful for the distraction and the excuse to stall. He looks me over carefully but says nothing.