I crossed my arms and kept my distance. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to keep falling for him when he couldn’t commit to fully opening his heart.
“You let me hold you,” he said, “even when it was difficult.” A foreign emotion of timidity seeded within him. “I’d like to allow you the same.” He winced like he wasn’t expressing himself correctly. “That is, I’m asking you.” His shoulders wilted. “I’m trying, Sonya. This is the best I can do.”
I bit my lip.
He searched my eyes. “Stay.”
A breeze pressed against the windowpanes. The gilded walls of the palace creaked. My flimsy barrier against the prince came undone. I walked away, but not to the midnight-blue door. I climbed into his bed. A sliver of moonlight angled across the blankets from a crack in the window curtains. He took a long breath and followed me. We sat opposite each other, me with my legs curled at my side, him with one knee propped up. Then we moved nearer, as if this was the most delicate dance of all, as if we hadn’t already spent the greater part of the night in each other’s embrace. Somehow this was different. This was him relenting to me. It felt fragile, like a painted porcelain egg.
I lay back on the pillow and held out my open hand. He eased himself down and settled his head in the crook of my shoulder. I slid one arm beneath him, the other on top, and pressed my lips to his brow. His body sank lower in the mattress. His hair brushed my cheek and smelled of soap and evergreens. I smoothed it back as he’d smoothed mine.
It wasn’t long before Anton’s chest rose and fell beside mine in the pattern of peaceful dreaming. Two silent tears tracked down my cheeks, my last thoughts of the night for Pia, and then my eyes drifted closed, my head drooping against the softness of Anton’s hair.
CHAPTER THIRTY
SOMETHING WHITE AND PIERCING AWAKENED ME. A RAY OF sunlight sliced through the crack in the curtains like a dagger. I cringed and turned my face so the beam moved out of my eye. Then I caught sight of Anton and remembered with amazement that I had slept beside him. Our positions had shifted in the night. His head lay across my stomach, his mouth open in deep slumber as his arms draped along my sides. One of mine was bent above my head on the pillow, while my free hand was burrowed in his hair. He appeared younger, more vulnerable, more beautiful now that his cares had slipped away in the realm of sleep. I wanted to stay with him like this forever.
With a sigh of blissful contentment, I cast my gaze back to the window curtains. Then I frowned, blinking at the shaft of light as I studied it closer. It wasn’t hazy with the gray of dawn; it was cut with bright lines. I gasped and nudged Anton. “Wake up!”
He lifted his head and peered up at me with one eye, his chin resting over my dress at the navel. “Sonya?” he said, as if still dreaming.
“I’m supposed to be back in my bedchamber!” I hissed. In all the nights I’d spent in the tapestry room, I’d never once slept so soundly that I hadn’t awoken before Pia came.
Pia.
An ache emerged in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I couldn’t lose myself to tears again. “I have to go,” I said. “Lenka will be looking for me.” Why had I come to Anton’s room last night? My selfishness put him in danger, too.
A sharp rapping came on his outer door. The prince and I jolted upright. I scrambled for the other side of the bed, aiming for the tapestry room, but the hinges of the outer door squeaked and the handle turned as it prepared to open.
My jaw hung. I couldn’t think. I would never make it out of here in time.
Anton’s reflexes were faster. None too gently, he tossed me across the bed to plunk down on the opposite side of the floor. I landed squarely on my rump, and a little yelp escaped me.
The door creaked open. “Good morning, brother.”
Valko. I ducked lower. My nerves flashed cold. Beneath the bed, I watched his polished black boots approach Anton’s bare feet and clip along the floorboards from across the room.
The prince cleared his throat. “Good morning”—the boots halted—“Your Imperial Majesty.”
The emperor’s boots came three steps nearer. My breath thinned as they swept close to the bed. “It’s been a busy two days,” Valko remarked casually. “The people’s reception went well, I daresay. There was that unfortunate matter about the serving maid”—he rocked slightly back on his heels, then revolved and put a little more space between himself and Anton—“but what’s done is done. It was necessary.”
I narrowed my gaze on the gleam of black leather. Why had the emperor come? Was this usual for him to barge in on Anton and ramble on about tedious matters of the empire? Never mind they regarded the death of my dearest friend.
The tendons contracted at the back of Anton’s ankles. “And what is the news of today? Is it cumbersome, as well?”