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"Everyone has an image of you in their head, Bea," Linc says. "I have one. It won't match how you see yourself either."

"I suppose not. But I think it would be closer than what Bastian sees."

"Mmm." He finishes cleaning my cut. "There, it should be fine, just don't wear close-fitted sleeves when you go to bed." He drops the cloth into the now slightly pink water.

"Just what do you think I sleep in?"

"I can't say I've thought about it."

"Really?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. "You mean you haven't thought about what it would be like for me to be in your bed?"

He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. "You're not exactly sleeping in those thoughts."

The tension from the disagreement with Bastian is all but forgotten by his admission. I reach out and trace patterns on his arm. "Maybe you should tell me some of these thoughts."

"Given where we are, I don't think that's wise."

"Why? Everyone keeps telling me that chastity isn't a requirement for vampires. And I don't particularly want to go home right now."

"Bea..."

The door opens before he can say anything and he jumps up.

Marcus steps into the room, looking between us as he does. "Beatrice," he says, a note of surprise in his voice.

I get to my feet and dust off my dress. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you'd be here when I came."

"Likewise," the other prince responds. "I guess I'm no longer needed."

"I can go," I say. "I really didn't mean to get in the way."

Marcus looks past me to where Linc is standing.

"Or you could both stay," Linc says. "You'll be family soon."

"We're already family," I point out.

"Right. Vampire family trees," he mutters.

"Just be glad the two of you aren't related," Marcus says, heading over to the tray of drinks and pouring himself a glass of wine. "A hundred years ago or so, they wouldn't have cared as much."

"Why do they care now?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I suspect mostly because Mother would refuse a betrothal between us, and Father is pleased about how much more sociable you've made Linc."

"I'm with the Queen on this one," I say. "No offence, Marcus."

He shrugs and sits on the chair opposite, leaving the space next to me free, presumably for Linc. "We'd have bigger problems in our marriage than being distant cousins."

"Ah, yes. How is Lord Luca?"

"Beatrice!" Linc exclaims.

"What? Are we not allowed to talk about it? Everyone here knows."

Marcus chuckles. "I would like to talk about it."

"Then why haven't you?" Linc asks. "Would you like a drink?" he directs at me.