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Valda titled her head, her thumb rubbing against Maris’s cheek. “I am sorry—”

“It wasn’t because of you, Valda.” Maris scoffed, shaking her head. “I was afraid. I am afraid.”

“Of what?”

Maris squeezed Valda’s hands, pulling it away to touch the lines in her palms. “At first, I was afraid to take a heart mate because there might be a possibility of them finding their soulmate and leaving me. Then, when I met you, I was afraid I would find a soulmate and leave you.”

“Like I would let you go that easily,” Valda chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to Maris’s temple.

Maris’s soft laughter soothed Valda. “I know, but now I am afraid of breaking the bond.”

“That will not happen.”

“Valda, you never know. Look at my parents. Look at what it did to my mother. I don’t want to experience that pain; I don’t want you to experience it.”

“Neither of us will,” Valda said, squeezing Maris’s hand. “You are not alone anymore. I will not break the bond.” That was a promise Valda was going to keep for as long as she could. She would not leave Maris’s side, not when she needed her this badly, not when the gods had arranged for them to be together.

“True but right now, I feel like something heavy is sitting on my chest, and it’s not letting me breathe.”

“You are anxious, which is completely normal…” Valda should know, she felt the same heaviness when she crowned herself as queen. It was the heaviness of carrying the hope and dreams of an entire kingdom, and Maris shouldn’t do it alone.

With a sigh, Valda ran her fingers through Maris’s hair before speaking again. “Maris, I cannot promise you things will be easy; they won’t. They rarely are. What I can promise you is that whatever happens, I will be here for you. I am not leaving your side unless you tell me to… and even then,” Valda laughed. “I don’t think I could ever part ways with you now that I found you, Seashell.”

“I don’t think I could ever part with you,” Maris said, her hands circling Valda’s waist as she pressed her forehead to her shoulder. Valda’s receptive body more than welcomed the warmth of her skin. “Nothing could make me leave. I love you so much.”

“And you have no idea how it fills my heart to know this,” Valda replied, pulling back and lifting Maris’s chin to look at her lovely face. “How lucky we are, Seashell. Unbeknownst to us, and even when you fought against it, we became heart mates, only to find out our souls belonged together all along.”

Valda watched as Maris gave her another sweet smile. Valda could write enough poems to fill a library describing Maris’s beauty. Yet, it would never be enough. Maris was pure perfection in her eyes, and nothing she could do would make her stop loving her the way Valda loved her now. Unable to help herself, Valda leaned forward and captured Maris’s lips in a soft kiss that warmed her soul and ignited a flame that consumed them.

“You know what helps me when I am anxious?” Valda asked, her smile mischievous and gaze never leaving Maris’s tranquil face.

Maris narrowed her eyes at the queen earned a deep chuckle. “I think I know but go ahead and tell me.”

“You need to keep your mind busy for now until you go out to face your people.” Grinning playfully, Valda handed the cloth to Maris and then leaned back on the other side of the tub, her thick arms rising from the surface to lay on the rim. “Now, I know I don’t need your help washing anymore, but for good time’s sake, I would love it if you washed this paint off me.” Valda beamed.

“You are taking advantage of the fact I haven’t been crowned yet, aren’t you?”

“Probably.”

“Although, I am New Agenor’s representative, not your assistant.”

“True.” Valda’s smile grew wider.

“Which means, I have no business doing this.”

“Really? I just thought you would enjoy rubbing me down.”

Maris arched her eyebrow. “Oh? Maybe you would enjoy watching me rub you down.”

Valda knew her smile melted Maris’s resistance. She saw it in the way her eyes trailed over her face, her lips and jaws, and down her chest. She felt the tug on their bond, and she knew Maris needed this distraction more than anything. Sighing dramatically, Valda leaned back again and watched as Maris lathered up the cloth before slapping it on Valda’s arm. The sudden strike burned for a second, but as Valda opened her mouth to complain, Maris straddled her waist, sitting on her thighs, and began to rub the cloth over Valda’s broad shoulders.

Valda watched Maris scrub the paint on her shoulders, collarbone, neck, and arms. Who would’ve known something so simple as to rub a washcloth over her dirty skin would give Valda such peace?

“You are staring,” Maris said, her gaze focused on her chore.

“You cannot blame me for doing what I’ve been dying to do since the moment I heard your voice,” Valda whispered, canting her head and exposing her neck for Maris to clean.

“It is still rude.”