The lingering heat of the kiss danced on my skin as we retreated to opposite sides of the carriage once more. A stolen glance at Damian revealed a similar flush creeping up his neck, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of unspoken emotions. The air crackled with a newfound intimacy, yet a heavy silence descended upon us. The weight of the situation, the uncertainty of what awaited us at the palace, settled back in like a shroud.
The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves lulled us into a tense quietude. The passing scenery – rolling hills dotted with quaint villages – blurred into a watercolor wash as my mind replayed the stolen moment. Shame, a foreign sensation, tinged the edges of my excitement. We were bound by duty, yet the desire that flared between us felt like a betrayal of the trust placed upon us.
