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Henrik’s head falls back when I run my hand down his bare chest. “I should put on my tunic,” he breathes.

I tease, “You are rather distracting.”

But the commander doesn’t move, and I don’t step away. My hand moves with each of his labored breaths, rising and falling. His skin is a little tanner than mine, with a light dusting of hair that I explore with my fingertips.

“You’re like a painting,” I say quietly. “I used to scoff when the ladies giggled over you—I must have been blind.”

Henrik takes my hand as if he cannot bear the contact anymore, holding it in his as he brings it to his mouth. Instead of kissing me, he runs his lips against my knuckles, nuzzling my skin. It’s somehow sweeter…and more heartbreaking. With a wry smile, he says, “I remember. You claimed I would kiss like a fish.”

“I was wrong,” I say with a laugh, sighing when he proves, yet again, his prowess in the art.

Henrik kisses me long and slow, skimming his hands over my sides, setting me on fire with every touch. I press into him, wishing I were taller.

Shoving a stack of woven archery mats aside, the commander lifts me onto a table, lessening the distance between his mouth and mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, savoring each stolen second.

But the bliss is tinged with sorrow because our minutes are numbered. We can’t hide in here forever.

When we’re out of breath, and my cheeks are flushed, I rest my forehead against Henrik’s shoulder. He gathers me into his arms, wrapping me against him. I breathe deeply, taking in his scent and the way his skin feels against mine. I’ll log the details into my memory so I will remember them forever.

“You told me I wasn’t allowed to give up hope,” he says gently, sensing the shift in my mood. “Doesn’t the same apply to you?”

“Everything seems impossible right now.”

He strokes my hair. “I need you to know something.”

“Hmmm?” I murmur, snuggling in closer, setting my hand against his warm chest and feeling the steady thrum of his heart.

“I know what love is now.”

I look up slowly. Though my fractured heart aches, it yearns to hear Henrik's confession. It might break me…but I need it.

The commander’s gray-blue eyes meet mine, solemn and calm. “I love you, Clover. You were right—love isn’t something I chose or expected. I fell into it, unaware and far too clumsy. And though I know I don’t have a right to feel this way about you, it doesn’t matter. Because I do.”

“Henrik,” I whisper, overwhelmed.

“Never wonder, never doubt it.” He kisses my lips softly. “Even if life takes us in different directions—”

“I love you, too,” I interrupt, clutching his face. “So much.”

I cling to Henrik as he kisses me again, wishing we could run away—leave Caldenbauer and never look back. But too many people depend on us, and we can’t flee.

And time, cruel as it is, moves quickly. Too soon, we must part.

“You go first.” Henrik holds my hand, walking me to the arena doors. “I’ll leave in a bit so we’re not spotted together.”

But we linger, our fingertips clinging.

“I don’t want to go,” I tell him.

He smiles. “And I don’t want you to go.”

“Be careful tonight,” I warn, wishing I could go into the city with him.

“I will be.” He brushes one last kiss over my lips and then nudges me forward. “Now go.”

I’m just reaching for the door when Henrik calls my name. When I look back, he says, “Don’t look for me again—it’s too dangerous.” When I begin to protest, he gives me a rare grin. “I’ll find you next time.”

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