Ultimately, we decided to share a single horse. Liora walked beside us—she didn't seem to hold a grudge against me. Tenebris's back was broad and secure, but from such a height, tracking the path was difficult. My body constantly brushed against his, involuntarily.

Ambrose's arms reached out from both sides of my waist, holding the reins. His posture was so calm that, despite all my embarrassment, I tried to remain motionless. But every now and then, my back would unsteadily bump against his chest, and I would hold my breath, struggling to forget the contact.

My only job—or excuse—was to hold the slack reins resting between his hands. Even if I pulled the reins, the horse wouldn't care; in fact, pulling them would have no effect, for they were nothing more than extra rope within his powerful grip.

"You know," he said, his voice close to me but his eyes fixed on the path, "it isn't actually that dark. The heart of the forest is always more shadowed. You will notice once we step out of it... Unless, of course, night falls upon us at this pace."

"I've gotten used to it... We can go faster, really," I said.

"Huh," he uttered with a short chuckle. "Liora may have helped you at sunset, but standing on Tenebris isn't easy. In your current state, you're practically falling. You're leaning so far forward already..."

I tried to correct my posture. But broad as it was, the saddle was meant for one. Sitting like this, my entire body inevitably leaned against his.

"I am just a little tired," I said in a hushed voice, trying to compose myself.

"Do not worry, you will not fall from my arms. But hold on regardless... Otherwise, I will have to hold you."

Tenebris sped up. The cold wind whipped against my face, but strangely, I wasn't shivering. Because with the speed, my entire body fell back into Ambrose; I leaned against him. I had to grip the reins tightly, my hands trembling.

"It's blowing harder like this, are you cold?" he asked, his voice very close.

"No..." I said, but my breathing was noticeably erratic.

As we went faster, holding the reins became even more difficult. My knuckles had turned white. I struggled to control my breath; what I was feeling was starting to weigh heavy on my heart.

Ambrose wrapped one arm around my stomach. "You do not need to hold on anymore. I am holding you," he said, pressing me flush against him.

My back was against his chest, my hips against his. All boundaries were blurred now. "Your hands were hurting, weren't they?" he said, and... whispered into my ear.

Despite all the rushing air around us, my breath hitched. "Yes... but it's fine," I managed to say.

"I would give you my gloves, but your hands are too small," he said. "I don't think it would do any good, Princess. If I had known, alongside having a special lead rope made for Liora so your hands wouldn't hurt, I would have requested gloves for you as well. I didn't realize your hands would ache. We are almost there... Endure it just a little longer."

His voice was deeper now. His tone was still calm, but the subtext was searing. I nodded. I could still feel the warmth of his arm across my stomach. There was a fluttering growing inside me, wanting to break free, yet suppressed by my embarrassment. I could feel my ears burning.

Deyanira... pull yourself together. You cannot be so easily flustered.

When we arrived, Ambrose dismounted first. Then, he reached up for me. He didn't look into my eyes, keeping his face entirely serious, but his hold was gentle. The moment he took my hand, all the heat inside me spread across my face like a wave. The spots where he touched my skin were still burning. It was the first time I had been this close to a man for so long... for hours, no less...

When my feet touched the ground, I was trembling. Not from the cold.

I was flustered.

When we returned to the palace, Ambrose cast a single glance at a servant.

"Draw a hot bath for the Princess. Do not delay."

There was command in his voice, but his tone was gentle. He had spoken without turning to me, but I knew he was doing this for me...

***

The bathing chamber was spacious, and I was used to it by now. The stone walls were lit by candles, and the vast marble tub was filled with steam. The moment I entered the water, my body relaxed; it felt as if the entire weight of the day was melting away into the tub. The second the hot water touched my skin, a sigh of relief rose within me, though it did not escape my lips. What... had I even experienced today?

I leaned my back against the stone wall of the tub and closed my eyes. The steam seeped into my skin, and as my tension slowly dissipated, my mind was still in the forest. Ambrose's voice... the warmth he left on my stomach... that moment he wrapped his arms around me—it wasn't just protection; it felt as if he truly wanted me. For the first time... I had felt safe in someone's arms. And that feeling... was terrifying. Because I wasn't used to it. Not to mention the things he had said at the ball.

I took a deep breath. As the sweet weight of the steam filled my lungs, I heard the servants whispering: "His Majesty will enter shortly. Let the Princess stay as long as she likes; they will be coming out together anyway."

I didn't open my eyes, but something inside me jolted. What did that mean? Together? No. We... we are married, but— But nothing has happened. Yet. Yet? We are not that kind of married!

My heart began to race. Something tightened in my throat; the hotter the water was, the more lightheaded I felt. I was just about to stand up when... the door opened. I buried my naked body back into the water.

Footsteps... too firm to belong to the servants. Ambrose.

I recognized him from his breathing. He stepped inside. I couldn't open my mouth. "Princess..?" he said in a low voice; he hadn't known I was in here either. "The servants must have misunderstood. I did not mean to disturb you."

I pulled my knees to my chest, as if any exposed part of me would vanish beneath the suds. The steam was like a curtain between us, but he was there. Calm. Composed.

"I will get out in a moment," I said. My voice came out muffled. "Since we are married, they probably didn't think it necessary to inform you separately."

But he didn't stop. The sound of a belt. Gloves. Footsteps... I didn't look; I couldn't even bring myself to look. "Are you really going to get in..?"

"Would you have them say he walked out because the Princess was inside?"

He was right, that would be absurd. "At least let me grab a—" Right, put all your clothes on and wait in the corner. "—a towel..."

"You may. I am not looking."

Ah, well, I can't look at you either, meaning I can't even see if you're looking, but I certainly hope you aren't.

I quickly wrapped a clean towel around my chest, covering myself down to my thighs. I sank back into the water; my cleavage was still visible, but how much more could I possibly hide?

"You can get in." I kept my eyes closed.

And then, someone stepping into the water. As the ripples touched my skin, my shoulders shivered. Now my heart was truly pounding.

We weren't close. But we were close. I averted my eyes; I didn't have the courage to look for even a second. Out of sheer embarrassment, my gaze remained fixed on the water, but that made it look like I was inspecting beneath the surface—what was I supposed to do? Finally, I lifted my chin. The water that reached my chest only reached his waist; alright, he was tall and large, but here I was, forcing my years-long slouch to sit up perfectly straight just so I wouldn't drown. And it wasn't as if I was short, either.

"Do you truly want me to stay here?" he asked. "I couldn't care less what the servants say. If you are uncomfortable, I will leave."

My lips parted, but no words came out. Whatever I said would be misunderstood. That was an answer in itself, wasn't it? "I don't have the strength to send you out right now," I said finally. "And besides... I wouldn't want them to say she chased her husband out of the bath, too."

"Let them dare try..."

My dark eyes were softer than his. Silence... It should have been soothing, but I wasn't soothed.

We were in the water. We were both silent.

Every time a ripple hit my body, I shivered as if I had made physical contact with him. But this lack of contact... was perhaps what made me feel his presence the most.

He wasn't looking. At least, not ostensibly... Yet he was so hyper-aware of my presence that, even though I tried to quiet my voice, it was impossible for him not to hear my breathing.

"You are still wary of me," he said. Calm, as if it were merely an observation.

Was I breathing like a fish drowning on dry land? I hope he doesn't pity me.

"No," I answered far too quickly.

"There is no need to lie to me, Deyanira."

When he said my name, something knotted inside me. So... softly. So seriously.

"It isn't easy to trust you; while everyone else does something in exchange for something, you expect nothing in return," I said involuntarily. Something had been triggered inside me. Perhaps this moment was too comfortable. Too... dangerous. "Even just getting close to you is a complication in itself."

Ambrose did not stay silent. But he didn't answer immediately either. The ripples brushed against my body once more. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye—his gaze was on the water, his face turned toward the wall.

Then, he plunged a dagger into that silence: "Because I am the crown prince, or because I might take a second wife?"

My lungs froze. I swallowed hard. With an involuntary movement, I pulled the towel a little tighter around myself; it felt as though the wetter it got, or the more my breathing rising my chest, the more the towel was unwrapping—or perhaps it was just squeezing me tighter and stealing my breath.

"I..." I wonder if he thinks I care about him becoming Emperor? Because I couldn't care less about his title. All I want is for him to be honest with me and not lose the things he deserves because of me.

"There is the throne, Deyanira. Lineage. Blood... The Empire cares about these things. The families want them. Everyone wants something. But me?" He paused. He dipped his hand into the water, then continued without turning to me. "I do not want anything from you."

My heart felt as if it stopped for a second. But immediately after, an ugly voice rose within me:

 Yet. He doesn't want anything yet. Because I mean absolutely nothing to him.

"I haven't asked anything of you, either." My voice came out a bit sharper. "I still don't know what meaning this marriage is supposed to have for me. Aside from the title I was given, I don't know why I am here... or what it is you think."

"This palace will swallow you whole, Deyanira."

"I know."

"No." His voice took on a more serious tone. "You don't know yet. That is why you can be so open. That is why... you are too honest."

"And what about you?" I said, softly. "How honest are you, Ambrose?"

"I have told you everything I think and feel. Are you still questioning me?"

There was another brief silence. Then his voice echoed through the steam once again:

"We can get out, if you wish. Being this exposed... might be making you uneasy." There, his voice had turned cold even before the water did.

I opened my eyes. My trembling hands gripped the towel tighter. But my eyes were still locked onto his.

"Yes," I said. "But not exposed in the water... exposed next to you."