Ilona sat up in the loft of the barn as the rain began to ease off. The time between rumbles of thunder grew longer and longer, and even the breeze was calmer.
The pattering of the rain against the barn roof and the warm purring brown cat on her lap was making Ilona drowsy. She knew she should wake the Prince and get some sleep herself, but she just couldn't make herself move from her spot.
She couldn't trust the man. If she left him to keep watch and went to sleep, how could she trust that he wouldn't doze off himself?
Ilona could just imagine waking up to find the barn owner holding a blade to her throat or, worse, waking up to find them surrounded by royal guards ready to drag her away to a dark, damp dungeon.
No, she would rather be exhausted and free the next day than well-rested but in a cell.
