A Dark and Starless Night

Chapter Forty-Seven

The side of Eve's cheek was damp when she awoke, and she realised she had been drooling. She didn't care; she was tired, utterly exhausted. She kept her eyes firmly shut, ignoring the light that filtered through her eyelids.

Until the bed underneath her shifted.

She sat up suddenly, but her hand met air and she fell onto a tiled floor. She squealed – her throat aching – and Rik grunted, jerking up and startling from his sleep. Her cheeks burned as she wiped one clean of drool, staring at Rik as he rubbed his eyes, looking grumpy.

She had slept on Richard Varhindal. The crown prince! One of her best friends. Her best friend who she had nearly kissed last night. Her best friend, she realised as dread sank inside her, who had nearly died.

"What time is it?" he grumbled, leaning back against the sofa and stretching.

"I have no idea," she said, standing up, her bare feet padding across the ground as she began to pace.

"Why are you pacing?"

She stopped and stared at him. "We almost died last night, if you don't remember. Not to mention that I slept in your room last night."

"You've slept in my suite before, Eve."

"There were other people here," she argued, feeling the heat of her cheeks radiating. She folded her arms across her chest. "And I didn't leave in the same clothes as the night before."

He looked at her for a long second before bursting into laughter. She rested her hands on her hips, levelling him with a glare. When he stopped laughing she was at least pleased to see he was slightly flushed.

"I'm sure you probably left some clothes in your room," he said, gesturing to the room she had occupied before they had all travelled east. "And if not, I can always get a servant to get you some."

"Do not," she said, ducking into the room.

She was relieved to see that she had in fact left clothes in the room. They had been neatly folded and placed in a chest. She changed, washing herself quickly. She paused as she met her grey eyes in the mirror. So much had happened in the last few weeks. She had almost been killed several times. Had seen two men murdered. But the thing that had her shaking now was that she had slept in Rik's arms.

That they had almost kissed last night. She smoothed the hands down her shirt. There were a thousand reasons that they couldn't be together, ranging from the circumstances of her birth to the fact that she would be an Archduchess when Luc died, and that meant that she legally couldn't marry him. He had to know that. Why would he have tried to kiss her if he knew that?

She shook her head violently.

"Of all the things to be worried about right now," she said to herself, shoving away from the basin.

A well of shame opened up inside her as she headed back to the reception room. A man had died last night. She and Rik had almost died. And she was acting like a love-struck child. In the reception room, Rik stood talking to a guard as they peered over a sheet of paper.

"If it isn't Rik's hero," someone behind her said, and she spun, frowning as she faced Fin.

"I didn't see you last night," she said. "I thought maybe you'd finally pissed off."

He smiled slightly, taking her off guard.

"We need to go, now," Rik declared, waving a sheet of paper in the air. "This is the report from the captain. Everything matches with the other three."

"This is proof," she said, feeling breathless. The well of shame in her stomach opened up another few foot. That man had died last night. And she felt...