After sending Millie (guarded by Hanna) to rejoin the other maids, Luvenia intended to follow Gorogon to his study. There were things she needed to take responsibility for as queen, and she wanted to start as soon as possible.
Gorogon nixed that plan immediately.
"You need to talk to Hanna."
"About what?"
"Don't act like you don't know."
She knew, but she was afraid to know.
"As queen–"
"Your reginal duties can wait until tomorrow." He booped her nose. "Now go talk things out before one of you bursts into flames."
When she hesitated, he added in a soft sad tone: "You need to tell her how you feel while you have the chance. You never know what might happen."
She remembered Caradon, using the last of his strength to write a farewell message, who even as he died could leave nothing more explicit than "yours til death" to his grieving lover.
"You win." She gave him a gentle squeeze on the arm. "Just don't sneak any of your work into my to-do pile."
"Have you no faith in me? I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing!"
"Not now that you know I'll be watching for it."
He chuckled and shepherded her toward the door. "You'll make an honest man of me yet."
Hanna was waiting just outside the king's suite. "Millie is with the others now," she reported. "We saw no one along the way."
"Well done."
Luvenia focused on breathing calmly to quiet her racing heart. She couldn't hear herself think over its thundering beat.
"We need to talk. Shall we meet in your sitting room?"
"...I've broken some of the furniture in there."
"Then we don't have to worry about breaking anything else. I'll freshen up and see you there."
"Yes, madam."
***
Luvenia didn't need to freshen up. She needed to sit down in front of her mirror and practice breathing at a normal rate.
"It's fine," she told her reflection. "You're fine."
Her body didn't seem to understand what she was telling it. Her cheeks were still flushed; her hands still trembled; her chest still ached whenever she thought of Hanna waiting for her in the adjoining suite.
The way Hanna had looked at her when Gorogon revealed that they weren't really in love...
Luvenia pressed her hands down on the vanity, took a few measured breaths, then rose and started toward the door.
Then she paused, removed her crown, and left it on its cushion before leaving the room.
***
There was very little furniture in Hanna's sitting room compared with Luvenia's. The carpet bore indents from various items that had since been removed. The only objects remaining were a large solid oak chair, a shabby but sturdy cabinet that looked like it ought to have been in a kitchen, and a small mirror mounted on the wall at Hanna's eye level.
Hanna offered Luvenia the chair, opting to stand as usual. Luvenia felt especially small as she looked up at her guard.
"So... I..." None of the words in her head seemed like the right ones to say aloud. "I think... I like you."
It sounded childish and uncertain, but it was better than complete silence (she hoped).
Hanna's expression was strangely blank.
"I'm sorry, I'm not... I don't know exactly what it's like to be in love." She felt smaller by the second. "I've never felt this way about anyone else before. It's hard for me to explain it in a way that isn't... incomplete."
Hanna kept watching her. Sweat trickled down the side of Luvenia's neck.
"When we were in the carriage together, and you... held me... I liked it. I felt safe in a way I'd never felt before. Since then, I find myself wanting to be... in your arms."
When Hanna continued to stare blankly, Luvenia started to feel a little bit insulted.
"Don't you have anything to say about this?"
No response.
"Should I leave?"
Nothing.
Luvenia stood up and straightened her dress. She felt as though someone had torn open her chest and wrenched out her heart, but it was fine—she was fine—this was a new kind of pain, but pain was nothing new to her. She'd get through it, just like always.
She turned to go.
"Wait..."
The voice was so faint that Luvenia thought that she had imagined it, but the possibility that it wasn't made her look back.
Hanna's eyes were brimming with tears.
"Don't go." A long, slow, careful breath. "I'm listening." Another careful breath. "I'm trying not to wake up."
The empty space in Luvenia's chest began to fill up with honeyed sunlight.
"You think this is a dream?"
Hanna's expression finally changed from perfect neutrality to awe and disbelief.
"It isn't?"
Luvenia's feet hardly touched the ground as she went toward Hanna. She wrapped her arms around Hanna's waist and rested her cheek on Hanna's broad chest.
"I thought—oh, never mind what I thought. As long as you weren't just indifferent to what I was saying..."
Hanna rested her hands on Luvenia's back, but so lightly, so delicately, like a pair of butterflies settling on a flower.
"Forgive me, your majesty. I was sure you wouldn't–" Her voice cracked. "You would never–"
"I would, and I am." Luvenia held on as tight as she could. "And I'm not even done yet. I hadn't told you how much I've enjoyed our conversations, and how I felt when you told me you belonged to me..."
Hanna laughed. Luvenia wanted to sunbathe in that wonderful sound.
"If you have a lot more to say, then perhaps I ought to sit down and... hold you."
They both blushed. Then Luvenia stepped back and gestured to the chair with a flourish, which made Hanna laugh again.
***
As long as the chair was reasonably sturdy, Hanna explained, she could sit in it without breaking it, but the act of sitting had to be undertaken carefully to avoid applying any muscular force to the chair. Hanna had practiced the maneuver often enough to not have to focus on it. Standing up, on the other hand, required concentration; almost all the chairs Hanna had ever broken had snapped under her hands when she absentmindedly pushed off the seat.
"It's good that I'm holding you," she concluded, her breath stirring Luvenia's hair, "because it's keeping my hands busy, so I can't accidentally break the chair."
"Glad to be of service."
Luvenia reclined on Hanna's chest with her knees drawn up so Hanna's arms could encircle them. She was so comfortable that she might have fallen asleep, save that her heart was still dancing a merry jig in her chest.
"You never did tell me where the name 'Iron Hans' came from."
"I didn't? Oh, someone made a joke about my 'iron hands' once after I'd started wearing the cloak, and it sounded impressive, so I turned it into a name."
"That's really it?" Luvenia chuckled and turned her head to kiss Hanna's jaw. "Then our impertinent envoy wasn't completely wrong. He kept calling you 'Iron Hands'."
She felt Hanna's muscles tense. "Why did he mention my name?"
"He suggested sending you to the Peresse border with the knights and soldiers Alatir is asking for. –Don't worry, I forbade it."
"Would my going to the border help you, madam?"
"No. Not only do I not want you to go, but your presence might cause confusion. You're not part of Middewold's royal knightage or the army."
"Is it because I served your father?"
"...That's part of the potential confusion, yes."
Hanna rested her chin very gently on Luvenia's head. "I never would have served him if I'd known what he'd done to your family."
"Didn't you wonder why he's called 'the Faithless'?"
"He told me he didn't trust anyone before he met me. I thought that was it."
"That's close to the truth. He never trusted any of us, no matter what we did—or didn't. Beau never said or did anything against him, but our father still locked him up after he came of age. He even..."
She trailed off as she realized that Eddard had somehow managed to infiltrate what was meant to have been an intimate conversation.
"I don't want to talk about him right now. I want to talk about you, and all the reasons I've fallen in love with you—if that's what this is."
Hanna made an inarticulate sound of joy. Luvenia couldn't help herself; she twisted around in Hanna's arms and took Hanna's face in her hands.
"May I kiss you?"
"Yes—yes, your majesty."
"It might not be very good. I've never kissed anyone before."
"Then it's my honor to share my first kiss with you, madam."
Luvenia had read about kissing, talked about it with Beaucaire, and even seen Beaucaire kissing one of his lovers. She still felt unprepared, but she desperately wanted to try it with Hanna.
She pressed her lips shyly against Hanna's, then tilted her head and opened her mouth. Hanna followed along as best she could, though the scar at the corner of her mouth kept her from matching Luvenia's actions completely.
Luvenia slipped her tongue into Hanna's mouth, not very far, but enough to send a shiver through them both. Hanna tentatively mirrored her; Luvenia surged forward, going deeper, clumsy with nerves and desire.
Hanna whimpered. Luvenia pulled back at once.
"Did I hurt you? Are you all right?"
"I... I'm fine, madam." Her face was flushed, her lips trembling. "I'm just afraid I might hurt YOU."
Looking into those honest eyes, Luvenia ached with love and longing. She cradled Hanna's cheek, running her thumb across the scars that bore witness to her painful history.
"You won't hurt me. You've never hurt me."
"But..."
"If you're worried," purred Luvenia, "then we should practice until you're sure."
Hanna's adoring gaze could have melted even a heart of stone. Luvenia's heart didn't stand a chance.