"I hate that," I murmur, working to press myself closer to him, even though that's not really possible. "I hate the idea of you scared, and alone, and talking to girls when I was just like...half a city away." "But you were engaged," he says, his voice strange - I think a little amused? I don't know. I can't quite parse it.

"You knew about that?" I ask, looking up at him wide-eyed.

"How could I not?" he asks, grinning at me. "You were all over the media - and it's all anyone would talk about, especially as it got close."

"Well," I say, smiling myself a little too and reaching up to stroke my fingers through his hair. "What did you think about it?"

what I had been instructed

his shoulder a little, my smile

he can't hold my eyes while he admits it. "Fine," he says,

me, a faint blush on his cheeks. "I saw a few pictures on the covers of

his head to smile at me. "Because you were a boy, Ariel - and you smelled like a boy, and I had no reason to equate the lowest-ranked Candidate at the academy with the pretty girl I'd seen on

and bending me back a bit in a way that makes heat coil in my core. "You are pretty. Much prettier in person, and not dressed up in all that bride-y gauze." "Yes, all that bride stuff really was crap," I say with a sigh, staring up at him, starry-eyed

straighter and resolving to be good. "How'd you spend your time off? Did you hang out with the guys that

is to sit right here in my mate's lap, listening to him talk for hours, spinning out the story of his life. I'd listen for days, if time and circumstance would

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