Chapter 24
I wish I had Aunt Meena to talk to. Or Inez. Or even Vanya.
I pace my room back and forth, thoughts churning in my head. I do not know if I have any right to be angry at Theo or if I am simply overreacting. Hysterical , my father used to say. The word never used to bother me, but now it jabs at me like a thorn. Maybe Theo does have a rational explanation for his behaviour, and I should be putting my trust in him. Or maybe he is another version of his father—cruel but in quiet and insidious ways. How are you supposed to tell a beast from a man when they look the same?
I shake the last thought out of my head. If I am not my father, then Theo is not his. It is unfair of me to compare him when he has so far only been a gentleman and given me no reason to think he has an ulterior motive. I press my fingers to my temples, sighing. It is difficult to toe the line between healthy scepticism and complete paranoia.
Luckily, my tangle of thoughts is interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
“Enter,” I call.
Theo steps in, quietly shutting the door behind him. It is late into the night and the last thing we need is to alert the guards with unnecessary noise. Even him being here, in my chambers with me alone, is crossing a line. It would break the illusion I am at his beck and call, cowed to the prince.
I fold my arms across my chest and jut my chin out.
“Well?”
Theo fidgets awkwardly before gesturing to the bed.
“May I have a seat?”
I look between him and the bed before unfolding my arms with a sigh.
“Yes.” I nod and sit next to him. The bed sinks slightly under both our weights as we sit side-by-side, stiff and upright.
“Firstly,” he half-turns to me, “I am truly sorry. I would never want you to feel as though I am embarrassed of you, and I am angry at myself for doing so.”
“Theo, you act as though you are a different person when we are not alone. I do not understand it, and it is thoroughly vexing.” I lean forward and put my face in my hands, frustrated. “ I do not know which side of you is real.”
“All the sides of me are real,” he replies, and I sit up to look at him. “When I am in sight of the guards, I am…I have to be the prince and nothing else. Many of the people who work here understand my father is not a good man, but the guards…the guards report things to him.”
Worry starts to gnaw at me.
“What sort of things?”
Theo’s shoulders are hunched, and his face looks stricken.
“Who I am close to,” he answers quietly.
I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat.
“Is it just the guards?” I ask, thinking back on the times I have spent with the kitchen staff and the servants. “Does anyone else report things?”
Theo shakes his head.
“It is just the guards. The servants are invisible to my father—he does not even consider them unless for torment.”
I nod slowly, allowing myself a deep breath to calm my nerves.
“Shivani, I cannot have anything happen to you. I cannot,” Theo continues and reaches across to grasp my hand tightly. “Please, the guards must not know.”
I press my lips together before squeezing his hand back.
“Why did you not tell me?” I ask. “I would have understood. I do understand.”
“I thought I could keep the illusion for the guards intact but I did not think how it would make you feel.” He hangs his head. “For that, I am so sorry. I…I wish I had an excuse, but it was simply a short-sighted mistake. I was too focused on trying to keep you away from…it does not matter. I am sorry.”
Theo looks at me, his eyes wide and earnest. A flood of affection for him washes through me for all he has done for me. I reach out and brush a brown lock from his forehead. He catches my hand and presses his lips against my palm, keeping his eyes on mine. My pulse quickens.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say. “You do not need to keep things from me.”
“I only…I wanted to protect you from the truth of it.”
I shake my head.
“I do not want that.” I turn further towards him, twisting my torso. “Theo, if we are to court, you need to understand we are on equal ground.”
His eyebrows furrow.
“Of course—”
“Which means,” I continue, raising my voice slightly, “when you have these worries or concerns or anything else, you come to me with them before you decide to do anything on my behalf. We are partners. ”
Theo blinks, the slightest trace of surprise on his face.
“Partners,” he repeats as though testing out the word, and a smile curves his lips. “Yes, I like that. Although, if I am being candid, I believe you may be a more formidable force than I. It is more likely you would be the one protecting me.”
He gives me his lopsided grin before reaching out to cup my face. His hand is warm against my cheek, and I lean into it, my worries from the evening evaporating.
“Theo,” I breathe, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Would you stay with me tonight?”
Without breaking eye contact, he nods.
“Always.”
He begins to pull me closer, but I stop him.
“Just…” My heart is thumping so hard against my ribs, it may burst out at any moment. “Just like the last time where we…I-I mean to say, I do not want to…”
I am suddenly intensely embarrassed, trying to formulate the right words without being too assuming or crude. My face warms as I attempt to stammer out a sentence. Theo stands, smiling.
“You are in control, Shivani,” he tells me. “We will do nothing unless you choose to do so.”
I blush, relief rushing through me.
“Well, I…I would like to change first.” I laugh nervously. “I do not think my dinner dress wi ll be the most comfortable sleep attire.”
“I believe you may be correct. Although I did not think they ever looked comfortable.” Theo grins before turning and walking to the washroom. “I shall be in here with the door closed. Call me when you are ready.”
As soon as he shuts the door, I quickly inspect it to make sure he is telling the truth, which, of course, he was. And that is when the panic sets in.
My boots and stockings are simple enough to remove but Inez dressed me because it was a dress which required an external set of hands. The bodice is laced tightly at the back. I manage to twist my arm and grab the ribbon between the tips of two fingers, but when I yank at it, I realise it is held firmly in place with a complicated knot.
“Ugh!” I groan, throwing my hands down in frustration.
“Are you quite alright?” Theo calls from the bathroom.
“No, um, yes!” I lift up my skirt, trying to see if I can pull the whole thing up and over my head.
“No and yes?” he answers.
“It…is…complicated!” I reply, each syllable punctuated with a yank upwards. When that fails, I let the skirt fall back down. “Saints!”
“Shivani?” Theo calls again, knocking on the bathroom door. “Can I come out?”
“Yes,” I say miserably, and he steps out after a moment. He raises an eyebrow when he sees me.
“So, you have opted for the dress as sleep attire?”
I glare at him.
“No. I…well, I cannot seem to take it off.” I raise my hands and let them fall to my sides. He regards me with an amused look.
“Would you like me to help?” he asks.
“Is that proper?” I reply, even though having him sleeping in my bed while unmarried makes it a moot point.
“It is practical.” Theo shrugs.
Exasperated, I put my hands on my hips.
“Very well! My dignity went out of the window long ago, apparently.” I turn and put my back to him so he can unfasten the knot. When he steps behind me, I feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, and I close my eyes as goosebumps spring up.
I vaguely feel him moving the ribbon through the thick fabric of my bodice, but I am distracted by the closeness of his mouth to the nape of my neck. He reaches up to brush my hair over the front of my shoulder, which I believe makes it easier for him to see what he is doing, but for me, all the feeling has left my legs.
My knees buckle slightly, and I catch myself almost immediately, but Theo places a hand on my waist to steady me. His hand is warm even through the dress, and his grip is firm. I fear my legs will give way again at any moment.
Fortunately for me, he manages to untie the knot and I feel him pulling the ribbon back, unlacing it in one smooth movement. The bodice eases its grip on my torso and slides down slightly. I put my hands on my chest, holding it up.
“There,” he whispers and I desperately try to clear the fog appearing in my head. He steps back as I turn.
“My thanks,” I say hoarsely.
He inclines his head before retreating to the washroom, closing the door behind him. I am left feeling…I am not quite sure what. I want him to go in the washroom while I change to retain my modesty, but I also want him to stay and remove the rest of my dress for me, using the same soft but firm touch he used before. I close my eyes, picturing it.
“Shivani, are you ready?” he calls through the door and I jump. How long have I been standing here, daydreaming?
“One moment,” I call back, flustered. I drop my dress and hurriedly replace it with my nightgown. I have several to choose from, and in a moment of madness, I pick the most immodest one available. The white fabric stands in stark contrast to my mahogany skin, with a low neckline and a hem falling just short of my knees. The clinging fabric hugs the shape of my hips and breasts in a way that is completely indecent. I think how scandalised anyone would be knowing I was willingly wearing this in front of a prince, unmarried and alone at night in my chambers. A tumble between commoners is one thing, but to act this way with royalty is entirely different. Instead of the expected shame, there is a secret thrill, not altogether unpleasant.
Although…would anyone be truly scandalised? The king sent me to his son for this exact reason, after all. I make the decision to cast off my worries and do exactly what I want.
“You may come out now,” I call through the door, trying to keep my tone light.
I wait for him, hands clasped behind my back as he steps through. When he does, he freezes in the doorway, mouth open and eyes wide.
He first catches sight of my nightgown before his eyes snap up to fix on mine. He says nothing for a moment, his mouth closing and opening several times. I wait patiently for him to gather his bearings, trying not to show how pleased I am.
“You are…dressed,” he eventually says, his voice thick. He manages to drag his eyes up to mine and glues them there.
“Yes,” I say simply and turn to climb under the heavy covers of my bed.
Theo seems to shake himself out of it and follows me, but his ears are tinged with pink, and he now avoids looking at me completely.
“I must apologise,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do not have any night clothes with me.”
“Oh, I suppose not.” I sit up in bed, contemplating this. “Well…what would be most comfortable for you?”
Theo’s face turns a bright shade of crimson, and he shuffles uncomfortably.
“I am afraid it would not be decent, Miss Shivani,” he says, his awkwardness allowing his old formalities to slip back in. My lips shape the letter ‘o’ as I realise what he means. I think about it for a moment before coming to a decision.
“Theo,” I say firmly. “I think we are already far past modesty for modesty’s sake. I believe you would not do anything untoward, regardless of how either of us is dressed. Or…undressed.”
The last few words come out in a breathy husk as my mind is invaded with images of Theo sleeping nude. I try my best to push them out but I cannot deny the look he is giving me has emboldened me in new ways.
“Well…” He hesitates a moment, and I hold my breath. Slowly, he reaches up and starts unbuttoning his tunic.
I know I should look away, but I find myself enraptured. Theo keeps his eyes on me while I watch his fingers move further and further down his tunic. It opens, and he shrugs it off, leaving his white undershirt. I look at him then, a question in his eyes. I give a small nod.
Theo’s fingers reach to the bottom of his undershirt, and he tugs upwards. I inhale sharply as his bare torso is exposed, fair and smooth. The muscles in his stomach and chest move hypnotically as he pulls further up, sliding the undershirt over his head and letting it fall to the floor.
I unabashedly drink in the sight of him—the smattering of fair hair across his chest, trailing down to his stomach. He is somewhere between soft and defined, and I fight hard not to reach across and place my hand on him. I swallow hard.
He pauses and waits for me. After a moment, I nod again.
This time, his fingers slide to the buttons on his trousers, making my breath catch. The room is silent except the sound of my racing heart in my ears. He undoes each button slowly, watching me all the while, waiting for me to stop him. But I do not.
The last of his buttons come apart, and he hooks his thumbs under the band of his trousers. Slowly, he pushes down before stepping out of them. The only thing left is his drawers—loose white fabric which narrows and ends at his knees. His hands hover on the band of them where they are tied low around his hips, showing the cut of his muscle before disappearing under the fabric. I never knew how the bottom of a man’s stomach could be so attractive. Again, his eyes find mine and ask the question.
“Stop,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
As soon as I say it, Theo moves his hands away. My gaze travels from his kind eyes to his strong jaw and further still until I am staring at his bare torso. I am aware I am being lustful, but I cannot bring myself to care, and Theo stands patiently by the bed. The corner of his mouth upticks, a hint of a pleased smile.
“Just like last time,” I tell him before reaching for the corner of the covers nearest to him and throwing it back.
He accepts the invitation, sliding into bed next to me.
“I am not expecting anything more from you than you are willing to give,” he says and stretches his arm onto my pillow. I shuffle closer and rest my head on his chest. He is warm and firm beneath my cheek, and I find myself relaxing almost immediately. Hesitantly, I place my hand on his stomach, and he responds by placing his hand on top of mine. I lace my fingers between his, and he curls his other arm over, pulling me closer. I am overly aware all that lies between us is the flimsy fabric of my nightgown and his drawers. I try to steady my breathing.
“You are sure I am not…” I struggle to find the right word. “Teasing you?”
He chuckles softly .
“I could lay here with you for the rest of my life and be happier than I have ever been, Shivani,” he says and rubs his thumb against my hand.
Pleased, I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat. It is racing faster than I thought it would be. I slide my leg over his until his thigh is nestled between mine, and his pulse speeds up even further. I wonder if he is as nervous as I am.
Safe, warm and comfortable, I drift off in the middle of my thoughts.