Only You

Unexpected

The two of them had been reluctant to break apart, neither one wanting to break contact first. But when they had, Rowan didn't move from her bed, he sat close to her, his hand drawing patterns on hers.

"Was it worth the wait?" Aelin smiled at him.

Rowan chuckled. "Gods yes."

She placed another chaste kiss on his lips, savouring the feel of it, the taste of it. She would never get enough of this, of him. If this was what it was like from a mere kiss she hated to think how she would feel when they took things further— because when she was healed, they would be taking things further.

Rowan scented her arousal and coughed. "You need rest Aelin." His words pained, like it took all his strength not to feast on her right then. Rowan returned to his chair, even with the distance she could still feel him on her lips. She brushed her fingertips along them, smiling to herself. She didn't want to think too hard on the repercussions of what had just happened. She didn't want to think about the bond or the future; she was just content to bask in that brief moment of utter bliss.

A knock on the door pulled them both from their thoughts. Her mother and father were loitering in the doorway, assessing the situation. "Can we come in?" Her mother asked tentatively.

Aelin smiled warmly at them, nodding as they stepped through the archway and into the room. Rowan took that opportunity to stand, bowing slightly to her parents and then to her. "I'll be back later, Aelin." She wanted nothing more than to make him stay, but she understood that he wanted to give her time with her parents.

Neither of her parents said much as they pulled another chair to her bedside, both taking a seat. Her mother looked tired, dark circles under her eyes and her hair braided messily over her shoulder. Her father too, looked worn out, the usual glint in his eyes gone, replaced with a gloomy look.

"I'm not dead, you know. You could look a bit happier to see me." She attempted humour, hoping to ease the tension, to ease the worry from her parents faces.

"The healers had no idea what you'd be like when you woke. You hit your head hard, and there was so much blood—" her mother choked back a sob.

"It was such a low fall, I don't— I don't understand what happened." Aelin could barely remember any of it, after the fourth or fifth shot of whisky the evening had started to blur, and the carriage ride home was a complete blank in her mind.

"You were too drunk to stop yourself, you just let yourself fall into the ground. If people hadn't been there to help... Gods." Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. "This could've been a lot worse, Aelin."

"I didn't exactly do it on purpose." She looked away from her parents, focusing on the flickering candle on the table instead.

"That doesn't matter. Whilst we're obviously relieved that it wasn't more serious, you cannot be going out and getting drunk like that. You are a member of the royal family, people look up to you." Her father looked away from her, breathing deeply for a moment before turning back. "You have an image to maintain, and I know you don't enjoy it, but this is the life you have, and unfortunately you cannot do what you want, despite what Lysandra might say." HIs voice was quiet, but his tone stern as he spoke.

"Rhoe..." Her mother placed a hand on his knee. "Not now." Evalin shook her head lightly.

"No, continue. I'd like to hear what he has to say." Aelin knew where this was going. Her father had had this talk with her when she was sixteen after she had broken her wrist racing horses with Aedion. He'd done it again only a year ago when she'd spent most weekends of the summer getting drunk with Lysandra and Sam— although they didn't know about Sam at the time.