You lay curled beneath the velvet canopy of your bed, the night air cool and fragrant from the gardens beyond the palace walls. The moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains, casting soft silver patterns across the silk sheets. Beside you, Simon shifts, the weight of him grounding, comforting. His hand rests gently on your waist, fingers tracing lazy shapes against your skin.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmurs, voice husky with sleep and something else—something more thoughtful.

You turn toward him, brushing a lock of his blond hair away from his eyes. “Just thinking.”

He hums low in his chest, eyes searching yours in the dimness. “About what?”

You hesitate. “Everything. Us. The throne. My parents… It’s all changing so quickly.”

Simon is silent for a moment, and then his thumb brushes along your hip. “It doesn’t scare me,” he says. “Being next in line. Standing beside you. None of it.”

You smile, but it’s faint. “Even when it means losing the quiet? Losing this?” You gesture vaguely around the bed, the room, the hush that wraps around the both of you like a shared secret.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We won’t lose it. We’ll just have to protect it. Make time for nights like this—when it’s just you and me, no crowns, no titles.”