Chapter 91: Familiarity

(GRIFFIN)

The ceiling above me gleams with the intricate work of gold and silver. Smooth marble tiles stretch across the floor, cold and pristine, reflecting the ornate carvings in the vaulted ceiling. My bed, massive, heavy with carved posts and embroidered silks, feels like a cage tonight. Too soft. Too stiff. Too foreign.

This room is fit for a king, the king that I supposedly am.

But it may as well be a prison.

I roll onto my side, staring at the balcony doors, the heavy velvet curtains drawn back to let the night in. The palace hums quietly around me, air moving through vents, the faintest echoes of distant guards changing shifts. It’s supposed to be safe here. Untouchable.

Instead, the walls feel like they’re closing in.

I flop onto my back again, frustration clawing at my chest. No matter how many times I close my eyes, I can’t sleep. The mattress sinks too much beneath my weight. The silk sheets are too smooth against my skin. Even the damn air smells wrong, rich and perfumed with oils instead of the sharp tang of pine and earth that I crave.

I spent too many years in a cell to ever be comfortable inside four walls again.

I shove off the covers and drag a hand through my hair. Anxiety gnaws at me, a restless, ugly thing. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

Sitting up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting the polished marble floor with a faint tap. The chill seeps into my bones, but I welcome it. At least it’s real.

The heavy drapes ripple as I cross the room. I unlatch the window and push it open, leaning out into the night air. It’s cool and sharp, brushing against my skin like a lover’s touch. The world smells clean out there. Wild.

I need out. Now.

Without giving myself time to rethink it, I pull on a pair of loose pants and a thin shirt, my bare feet silent against the marble. I move through the corridors like a ghost, slipping past the sleeping guards, down the long staircases, and out the side entrance where the gardens start.

The cool stone gives way to soft earth, and I inhale deeply, finally able to take a full breath. Freedom.

I follow the winding path, letting instinct guide me. My body moves on autopilot, muscles tight with leftover tension. I know exactly where I’m going even before I consciously think it.

Maya’s place.

My chest tightens at the thought of her in the small, cozy cottage that she insisted on sleeping in even when Erik offered her a room inside the palace. She wanted to be near her mother, wanted that comfort, wanted to make up for lost time.

Would I have been able to sleep more easily had she been in the room next to mine?

The farther I get from the towering walls of the palace, the looser my limbs feel. My shoulders drop. My hands unclench.

The stars stretch overhead in a sweeping canopy, brilliant and sharp against the ink-black sky.

When I near her cottage, I catch sight of something unexpected.

Maya is lying outside, right there on the grass, curled up on a blanket, a second one over her legs. Her auburn hair spills around her like a halo, the moonlight catching strands of gold and silver in the dark waves. A thick sweater swallows her frame, and her knees are tucked up close to her chest as she breathes steadily and softly.

My heart kicks hard against my ribs. For a long moment, I just stand there, watching her.

She looks so small like this. So vulnerable. So human. And yet, she’s the strongest person I know. She used that clever brain of hers to work out an escape plan, giving me back the life I never thought I could have again.

I step closer, careful not to make a sound. The earth is cool beneath my feet, damp with dew. I don’t want to wake her. I don’t want to break this rare, peaceful moment.

But being near her eases something raw inside me. She chose to sleep outside.

Maybe she feels it, too, that tight, suffocating pressure of four walls surrounding her. Maybe she needed to be under the open sky just as badly as I did.

A slow smile tugs at my mouth, bittersweet and aching.

I sink down beside her, sitting cross-legged on the grass. Close enough to hear her soft, even breathing, but not touching her.

Not yet.

The night wraps around us, thick and comforting. Crickets chirp softly in the distance, and the faint rustle of leaves fills the spaces between my ragged breaths.

For the first time all night, my chest doesn’t feel like it’s being crushed. I lie back, arms folded under my head, and stare up at the stars.

The scent of Maya, warm, familiar, utterly her, mixes with the fresh air. It anchors me better than anything else ever could.

I close my eyes.

I don’t know how long I lie there. Minutes. Hours. Time loses all meaning. But eventually, I feel movement beside me. A sleepy mumble. The rustle of a blanket.

I crack an eye open just in time to see her turn her head toward me, her expression dazed and soft from sleep. For a moment, confusion flickers across her face.

Then, recognition. “Griffin?” she whispers, voice rough and scratchy from sleep.

“Yeah,” I murmur back. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

She blinks at me, her eyebrows drawing together. “What are you doing out here?”

I shrug one shoulder, staring up at the sky again. “Couldn’t sleep. Palace feels too…much.” She’s silent for a beat, and then, softly, “Me too.”

I turn my head to look at her fully. She’s watching me with those wide, dark eyes, something tender and open in them. She picks up one edge of the top blanket and drapes half of it over me in an attempt to protect me from the cold.

My chest aches at the small, protective gesture.

I want to reach out and brush the hair from her face. I want to pull her close and tell her everything that’s boiling under my skin.

But I don’t.

I just lie there, breathing her in, grounding myself in her presence. “Do you mind if I stay?” I ask, my voice low.

She smiles sleepily, that small, secret smile she gives only when she’s too tired to hide her heart. “Stay,” she says simply, wriggling closer and nudging my arm with her head. I straighten it out, and she uses it as a pillow.

No other woman would dare to do that. But then, no other woman is Maya.

I stretch out beside her, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body radiating through the thin space between us. The stars swirl above us, endless and ancient.

And slowly, the tension bleeding from my bones, I close my eyes and let sleep find me.

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