Talia awoke and found herself staring up at a strange ceiling. Confused, she blinked a few times and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
She turned on her side and saw Prince Mikhail slumped against the far wall. His head hung to one side at an uncomfortable angle, and she almost almost let out a shriek, thinking him dead, but then noticed the even rise and fall of his chest.
He was sleeping. They must have reached the Inn early that morning after she had fallen asleep in the carriage.
Talia stretched luxuriously. She was actually warm, perhaps even a little too warm. She still wore her traveling clothes from the day before and noticed that there were blankets and the Prince's cloak heaped over top of her. In addition, a dying fire still crackled and popped in the grate.
It was a bit much, really, and the image of the stone-faced, war-mongering Prince heaping layers of blankets over her and building up a fire and wondering to himself if she would be warm enough, made her want to giggle.
She threw off the blankets and stretched again as she sat up.
She glanced toward Prince Mikhail, but he did not stir. He had always been hyper aware of her, even in his sleep. He must have been very tired.
He'd left Bludston with his troops and did not speak of what he'd gone to do. Given his skillset, it likely involved heavy fighting and bloodshed. He had ridden hard to Pirchburg, arriving well ahead of the troops, and then tracked her across the plains. He might have slept in the village of Zimma, but every time she'd opened her eyes, he was at her bedside.
She should let him sleep. That would be a kindness he surely deserved after saving her life. However, wouldn't his neck be sore? Yes. Surely, his neck would be sore. She should wake him.
Truthfully, it was the mischievous side of Talia, a part of her that had been buried for many years, that insisted upon waking him.
Prince Mikhail had commented before that her skills had improved, but not enough. Well, she would show him.
Grinning wickedly, Talia slipped soundlessly from the bed and stealthily crept to the window. This would be the most difficult part.
She grit her teeth and slowly opened the window a crack. Thankfully, the hinges did not squeak at all. She slipped her hand through and scooped snow from the ledge.
It was hard not to giggle.
She closed the window and tiptoed toward the sleeping Prince. When she got close, she crouched down.
His chest continued to rise and fall with each deep and even breath. She held her own breath and crawled a little closer. For a moment, she studied his face, trying to discern if he was faking or not, but he was entirely still.
He was asleep and completely unsuspecting, she decided and grinned. Should she try to stuff it down the neckline of his shirt? No, his reflexes were too horribly fast. She should press the entire handful right against his face!
She positioned her hand, ignoring the icy water that was already beginning to run down her sleeve from the heat of the room, and silently counted to three in her head.
One...
Prince Mikhail's hand shot out and snatched her wrist, Talia gasped in shock.
He opened his eyes and scowled at her and then glanced at her hand. The small scoop of quickly melting snow seemed to confuse him.
"What are you doing, Princess?" he growled.
"You're hurting my wrist!" she cried.
The Prince dropped her arm as though it had caught fire, and Talia shot forward and stuffed the handful of snow down the front of his shirt.
"Got you!" she laughed and fell back on her hands to look up at him.
The snow had melted almost as soon as it touched his skin, and his collar was wet. He had not flinched or gasped in shock from the cold. He merely stared at her with his brow furrowed in concern.
It was a disappointing reaction after she had gone to so much effort.
"Your wrist?" he asked softly.
"I'm fine. I lied so that you'd let go of my hand," she admitted.
"You lied?"
"The small and weak must use every advantage, right?" she teased.
"Every advantage to what?" he asked, still confused.
"Oh. I... I was just... I was just playing. I wanted to wake you because you looked uncomfortable, but I thought it would be funny if... haven't you ever pranked anyone? When you were a child, didn't you..." She shut her mouth, embarrassed now.
Of course Prince Mikhail had never pranked anyone. He had probably never played at all. By the age of 16, he was already deadly with a a number of weapons and leading the Empire's army.
"Nevermind," she shook her head, annoyed at her own momentary lapse of judgment.
"I thought you were trying to kill me again," he admitted. "What did you put down my shirt?
"Snow, just snow," she said, "You saw what was in my hand-"
"It... really stings," he said hesitantly and touched his chest. At the pressure of his own fingertips, he flinched in pain.
"It shouldn't," Talia said, feeling worried now. When had Prince Mikhail ever complained of pain? "Really, it was only snow, I scooped it off the window ledge just there!"
"Yes, well, we should... we should... be on our way," he said as he began to climb to his feet.
He stopped and clutched at his chest, his face shocked.
"Prince Mikhail?" Talia asked.
He collapsed before her eyes, his massive body hitting the floor so hard, the shock of it went through her.
"Prince Mikhail!" she shrieked.
She lunged forward on her knees and tried to turn him onto his back. He was so heavy! His eyes were open but had rolled back, unfocused. Was he even breathing? He did not appear to be breathing!
"Oh please, please, no!" she cried, panicking. She tugged at his shirt and slipped both her hands underneath, feeling for his heartbeat or his breath. "What have I done? HELP! SOMEO-"
She shrieked again as she suddenly found herself crushed against his chest. He had moved so fast to trap her in his arms, that it took her a second to understand what had happened.
It was when she realized that his chest was shaking. Was he laughing?
She glanced up in shock to confirm her suspicions and found him looking down at her, a rare smile upon his face.
"Got you," he growled.
Talia scoffed and did her best to suppress her own smile.
"Yes, yes. I suppose you did," she admitted.
They stared at one another, and she felt the heat begin to rise to her face. She was practically laying on top of him, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, and their faces close together. Would he try to kiss her again? The way he was looking at her suggested that he might.
Perhaps she would let him. If only he would just kiss her and stop there. Kissing him was quite pleasant, but with Prince Mikhail it always seemed to lead straight to other things.
She felt his arms fall away as he shifted beneath her.
"You ought to get up," he suggested. "We still have far to travel today."
He was no longer looking at her, but past her.
Disappointed, she sat up and watched as he rose to sit beside her.
"Your hair is messy now," she smirked, and reached out her hand to smooth the tangled locks. When she met his eyes, she stopped. They were blazing with such intensity. He looked away quickly.
"Prince Mikhail?" she asked, leaning toward him.
He didn't answer, but pressed his lips into a thin line. Talia grinned.
When he turned back to face her, she made a decision.
"Princess, we should--mmm!"
Talia lunged forward and pressed her lips to his own, stopping his words, and shocking him so much that his entire body froze.
He did not open his mouth to her, so she did what she had watched him do before and moved down to kiss his cheek and his jaw and his neck. She paused a moment to rub her nose lightly against the part of his body where his neck met his shoulder and breathed in the scent of him. He smelled masculine, like smoke and pine and musk and leather, but really she was gathering her courage for what she intended to do next. Talia slowly ran the tip of her tongue down his neck and nipped the hollow of his shoulder with her teeth. He shuddered almost violently beneath her.
"Gods," he whispered.
Talia grinned and moved to slip her hand up his shirt. She wanted to see him truly come undone, as he had done to her before, but the Prince caught her wrist.
"Do not play with me like this," he growled. "This is not a way you should play. It's not funny."
"You don't want me to kiss you, my Prince?" she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, and then ran her tongue lightly around his earlobe and bit it.
"Fuuuck!" he gasped.
It was fun. It was really fun to cause this giant of man to shake and cuss and gasp at her lightest touch. She grinned and reached again to pull at his tunic.
He snatched her hand and pinned it to the wall behind them.
On his knees now, he towered over her.
"If you want to play, Princess. We can play," he growled.