Page 86 of Hymn of Breath and Bone

As I got ready for bed, my body aching with exhaustion, I began to overthink all of the plans we’d made.

“Do you think any of this will actually work?” I asked as I brushed my hair. I didn’t really have the energy for it, but it was soothing to do something so mundane.

“I heard them chanting your name from all the way up here, Urchin,” Caspian joked. “They’re not going to be unhappy.”

“It’s not going to be that simple,” I replied, sighing as I put down the comb and reached for the silver crown. It was far too big for me, but I held it atop my head anyway just to see.

My face was stark in the mirror, the silver making my eyes glow and my freckles brighten as my teal hair floated in a frizzy, unruly cloud around me. I shook my head and placed it back on the table.

“There are thousands of selkies who will need to be convinced. Thousands who will be afraid and confused, and who weren’t at the beach to witness what happened.”

“They felt the storms,” Caspian pointed out, lounging against the pillows with his hands behind his head. “Saw them stop. Word will spread. And if we can form alliances on the mainland, it will help. Flourishing trade tends to have that effect on people.”

“Right as we’re heading into winter.” I sighed. “We could have picked a better time of year.”

“We’ll ask the kelpies to help,” Caspian suggested. “And the sea dragons. Perhaps they will exchange fish for something. Hunting rights or lake rights, or something.”

I rolled my eyes at his eternal optimism. “What happened to the pirate who took what he wanted and offered no apologies?”

I rose from my chair and went toward the bed, standing just out of Caspian’s reach.

“What happened to the princess who wore pirate leathers so well?” Caspian teased, trying and failing to reach for my nightgown. “What is this horrible thing you keep wearing?”

“It’s a nightgown,” I laughed, realizing that the style was completely different than anything I had worn in the cliffs.

“It’s an obstacle to your perfect breasts,” he corrected. “One which I intend to remove.”

He snatched again at the fabric and I skittered away. “No defiling,” I chided.

“You heard your mother. The room is ours now.”

I skipped back another step as he reached again. “Mira said you need to rest for two more days.”

“Mira said I had to stay inbed,” Caspian corrected as I finally relented and let him catch the hem of my gown. He pulled me to him by the white fabric, his eyes glowing gold in the candlelight. “She didn’t specify that I had to berestingin said bed.”

“This feels very familiar,” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest as Caspian pulled me closer. “One of us injured. The other one begging.”

“And I do beg,” Caspian growled, winning the battle against the nightgown and tugging it so hard that it ripped at the seams. “I beg you to end my suffering and make love to me, mate.”

I had to pretend very hard to be annoyed. “That was my only nightgown,” I protested as Caspian pulled me to him, bare but for my hair covering my breasts.

“I’ll get you another,” Caspian growled, hands square on my hips as I kneeled beside him, his eyes darting to the patch of teal hair between my legs. “Better yet, I won’t. It’s a ridiculous garment.”

He brushed my hair aside and pressed his lips to my breast, his tongue flicking gently over a nipple. I gasped as he repeated the move on the other side, and he grinned against my breast.

“Still no defiling?” he asked, teasing my nipple with slow, torturous circles as his hands squeezed my hips. “You can be gentle.”

“Menace,” I hissed, his tongue still flicking over my tightened bud. “Mira will have my head.”

“She never needs to know.” He pulled me over him, groaned, and rethought his plan. “Perhaps I need to be on top.”

“Perhaps you need to beresting,” I suggested, annoyed that he’d worked me up.

“Nonsense,” he argued, biting his lip as he took in my naked form. “I know.”

He tossed the pillows, throwing them to the floor, and shimmied down the mattress with a faint hiss of pain. I raised my brow, not even trying to hide my judgment.

“Come here,” he said, motioning to the empty space above his head.