As the night wears on, Cornelius and I retire to our chambers. The servants hurry around to remove our royal regalia, our clothes, and bathe us in the same room — although in different tubs of water.
Cornelius' eyes are fixed on mine. His gaze is so intense that it feels like he's peering into my soul instead. I quickly look away, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Then I close my eyes and try to relax while the servants finish their tasks. The sound of the water being poured and the gentle hum of the servant's voice are all that fills the room.
Once the servants leave and we are both wearing comfortable nightwear, I feel a nervous flutter in my chest again. This is it, I think to myself. The moment I've been dreading.
Cornelius moves closer to me, his hand reaching for mine. I tense up, but he takes it gently, intertwining our fingers. His touch is warm and soft.
"I am no longer angry with you, Lyr," he whispers. "But I am still very jealous."
