"Too many thoughts, too many fears. The ocean helps—it's the one thing that remains constant in a world gone mad."
Aragon said, "I couldn't sleep either."
"Why don't we take a walk?"
Aragon nodded.
They walked together along the shoreline, the moon casting their shadows long across the sand. For a while, neither spoke, content to let the rhythm of the waves fill the silence between them. But eventually, Malaica broke the quiet with words that made Aragon's breath catch.
"I want to be one with you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Not as duchess to king, not as ally to commander, but as woman to man.
We were to be married once, before the war started.
Perhaps... perhaps we could find that happiness again, even briefly."
Aragon stopped walking.
The betrothal had been arranged years ago, a political alliance that had somehow grown into genuine affection.
But the Arakenys' attack had shattered those plans along with so much else.
