In 812 days I will hold you to your promise to be mine. In most cases you are the stubborn one, but on this I refuse to negotiate, for nothing is more vital to my survival, you must understand. And when I say over and over how I want you to be mine, it is only because I am already completely yours.

During the day I miss your laughter and your wit and your smiles and the sharpness of your mind. In the evenings I think more of your kisses, sighs, and understanding ways. Then some nights I lie awake consumed with thoughts of the day I can love you in every way. On nights like this, my hunger for you overwhelms me. I can dwell for hours on the taste of your mouth and the scent of your hair and the touch of your skin.

I'm not sure love is enough to fix this.

She gazed down at the sleeping boy at her feet. Alex had died for his prince. If necessary, she would do no less.

Every night she wrote in that ledger. Every day he saw more signs that the ladies did not consider her one of their own. Every instinct he had screamed one thing. Lady Sagerra was a spy.