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He opens his mouth to respond but winces in pain, clenching his teeth together. I search the drawer for the lavender tonic and quickly find the familiar, purple bottle.

“This has become quite the regular occurrence,” I say, sitting back down.

“The transformation?”

“Keeping you company during your recovery.”

The prince smiles wanly as I tip the bottle towards his lips. I keep a careful eye to ensure it does not spill.

“And I am much obliged,” he replies once he has had his fill. I place the bottle to the side and chew my bottom lip.

We fall silent. The sun begins its ascent, filtering through the gaps in the heavy curtains. Birds start their morning songs.

“What do you plan to do with me?” I ask. It surprises even me.

The prince lays there like I had lain with a fractured rib, both of us nursing the other back to health. I want it to be genuine, his concern forme, but I cannot deny the dead women who came before me. The ones he could not orwould notprotect.

The prince lets his head fall to the side, towards me, and we lock eyes. His hair sticks to his forehead with sweat and dried blood.

“I plan to keep you safe.” His jaw is set.

My heart thumps rapidly, and I fight to keep my breathing even. He fixes me with the same intense gaze he had done before, as though he is looking into me. His eyes glance down to my lips for a moment and I am suddenly self-conscious. Exposed like a nerve. But the feeling is not unpleasant—the opposite, in fact, as a warmth crawls across my skin. Iwanthim to look at me. I do not know what should happen next, but I know I do not want to leave.

The spell is broken when he shifts and grimaces in pain.

“More,” the prince gasps, clenching his teeth and staring at the lavender tonic.

“O-Of course.” I grab the bottle and tip more of the liquid past his lips. I find myself drawn to his mouth. The softness and fullness of his lips, despite the caked-on blood. I shake the thought from my mind and pull the bottle back. “Is this better, Your Highness?”

The prince blinks rapidly before exhaling through pursed lips. His body relaxes, the tension in his muscles easing as the lavender tonic works through his system. He sinks backinto the bed.

“Sleep will find you soon,” I tell him. “Rest.”

To my surprise, he turns his head back towards me. His cheek rests on the pillow, a wonky grin on his face.

“Ha!” He gives a bark of laughter, loud and sudden. I jump out of my skin.

“Your Highness?”

“Thaaaat’s not my naaaame,” he drawls, giggling. I stare at him, bewildered. “Your Highness, this! Your Highness, that! But it is not my name, is it?”

“Um.” I glance at the empty bottle of lavender tonic. I fear I may have poured too much. “No?”

“Correct!” The prince jabs a finger at me before rolling his head to stare upwards, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I would like to tell you my name, but…well…”

I wait for him to finish but he does not.

“Well, what, Your Highness?” I prompt and he bursts into another fit of giggles.

“Your Highness, Your Highness!” He laughs as though he has never heard anything funnier in his life. I decide to refrain from calling him by his title until he falls asleep, lest it trigger another mildly terrifying bout of laughter.

“Are you…feeling better now?” I ask, hoping a simple question might encourage a direct answer. But his eyes, large and shining, turn on me, and he breaks out into another lopsided grin. It reminds me so much of his smile, his genuine smile. I cannot help but grin back.

“Miss Shivani.” He reaches out to grab my hand, holding it tight. “You are braver than I.”

I laugh, thinking he is still joking, but his face has turned serious.

“I am not sure about that,” I reply, shaking my head.