[ELARA'S POV]
We stayed in bed for hours after that.
Not sleeping. Just talking. The kind of talking we'd been avoiding since Vegas. The deep stuff. The scary stuff.
The stuff that could break us if we weren't careful.
But after almost losing each other, careful didn't matter anymore.
"Tell me about your childhood." I was curled against his side. His arm around me. My head on his chest. Listening to his heartbeat. "The real story. Not the polished version."
He was quiet for a long time. His fingers tracing patterns on my arm.
"You don't want to hear that."
"I do."
Another silence. Longer this time.
Then he started talking.
"I was twelve when my father sat me down and told me what I was. Crown Prince of Morvaine. First in line for a throne that didn't officially exist anymore." His voice was flat. Distant. "He made it sound like an honor. A responsibility. A gift."
I stayed quiet. Let him continue.
