"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?"

about it. It was all very far from what I had been instructed to think

shoulder a little, my smile deepening.

for a long moment before he breaks, looking away from me like he can't hold my eyes while he admits it. "Fine," he says, heaving a little sigh. "I thought you were...very pretty." "Pretty!?"

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

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

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 and

be good. "How'd you

listening to him talk for hours, spinning out the story of his life. I'd listen for days, if

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