"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?"

think about it. It was all very far from what I had been instructed to think was important, what I could understand - a royal

his shoulder a little, my

admits it. "Fine," he says, heaving a little sigh. "I thought you were...very pretty." "Pretty!?" I say, grinning and

mutters, still not looking at me, a faint blush on his cheeks. "I saw a few pictures

not recognize me when we met!?" I shout, laughing and tugging on his shirt, wanting him to look at me again. My mate, ever obliging, turns his head to smile at me. "Because you were a boy, Ariel - and you smelled like a boy, and I had

that bride-y gauze." "Yes, all that bride stuff really was crap," I say with a

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

spinning out the story of his life. I'd listen for days, if time and circumstance would let me, even though I know they

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