Page 218 of Grim and Oro
“You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”
No, I want to say.I avoid sleep because all I dream about is you. And that is dangerous.
“No. I haven’t for a long while.” Because before her, before dreaming of green eyes, on a golden stretch of beach ... there were the nightmares. The memories from battle. The never-ending screams when the curses were cast. “I have a lot of guilt,” I say simply, because it sums up all the reasons for my lack of sleep.
The island is tied to me. Thesepeopleare tied to me. I should be spending every waking moment trying to find the heart, trying to break these curses, yet I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking of green eyes and red lips.
“How did you find me?” she asks suddenly.
“In the hallway? I followed the trail of petals.”
She shakes her head. “No ... before.”
Ah. In the Moon Isle woods. “I heard the bird. That’s how I found you. I followed the bird.”
She yawns. Her eyes look heavy. I’m jealous, for a moment, of her ability to be tired. To find sleep. She smiles, and I can’t look away, even though it almost hurts to look at her, like staring directly at the sun.
Now she’s lying down. Her head is resting against my leg.
I sit very still, as if this moment is glass and I can break it. I don’t even dare breathe.
“I have honey in my head,” she mumbles, and I smile, because I’ve felt that before, though I’ve never thought of it that way. Her breathing starts to get longer. Deeper. She’s asleep.
She’s asleepon me.
Does this mean she trusts me? I stare at her greedily, memorizing every detail. Every curve of her parted lips, every curl of her lashes, every strand of hair that is splayed out against my leg.
Beautiful. Perfectly beautiful.
That’s how I fall asleep.
Counting all the ways the world doesn’t measure up to her beauty.
Someone is in front of me.
I jerk up on instinct, hand outstretched, warmth building, fire forming—
Before I see two green eyes blinking back at me through the darkness.
Right. I fell asleep ... in her room.
With her.
I frown. I haven’t slept this soundly in years. I lower my hand.
“You fell asleep,” she says quietly. “Thank—thank you for staying with me. I’m sorry, I think you missed part of the ... party.”
I did.
Panic flares. I need to attend Carmel before it ends. It’s still dark outside. I still have time—
But I’ve never done that before, slept through a responsibility. I’ve never been so reckless.
So irresponsible.
My people died at the last celebration. They need to see a strong king. They need to see someone to give them hope.
She gets up, looking a bit ashamed herself, avoiding looking down at her dress—ripped high up her thigh.
