I keep biting my lip whenever Miles catches me breaking one of his rules, because the last thing a princess should need is a timeout from her guardian, yet here I am waiting for him to notice.
Still, the nursery suite pulls at me with its schedule board and that corner where he makes me sit with the new bear until I can admit what I really want from the man who is supposed to guard my claim to the throne.
The library door has already locked behind us, and my breath is warm against his collar as we stand there, neither of us moving toward the passage yet, and I wonder if the crown is worth more than the safety of his arms around me when I finally let go in the only place I feel small enough to be held.
