Ciaran's POV:

Over the past two weeks, I have grown used to waking up with Rowan holding me, so it is rather frustrating when I open my eyes and find myself alone in his bed. Even though I am very aware that he is attempting to push away whatever he feels for me, it is still annoying to wake up and be alone with no one holding me.

I like when Rowan holds me; he wraps his arms around me and rubs my back, sometimes he even uses his blunt nails to scratch over my back scars, because scars get rather itchy for no reason.

He has some scars too, but none of them are consistent and in one spot, so I at least know that he was not beaten or whipped like I was, and that is a relief to me. Rowan's scars are badges of honor; proof that he fought a battle and came out victorious.

Mine are ugly symbols of weakness and proof that I can't fight back. Proof that I was meant to be a slave, not a prince.

I sigh deeply, frustrated with myself and sick of my own thoughts. It is then that I hear a laugh in the room and shoot up, looking around the room.

Rowan is sitting at the desk in his room, and I can see him writing something. "What is on your mind?" he asks, and he's smiling at me.

I love his smile. It makes his eyes brighten and he seems so relaxed when he is happy. Which, in my opinion, is something he deserves.

Rowan is a good person; he deserves to always be happy and I want to be the person who makes him happy.

Gods, I want to be the one he chooses.

But, obviously I cannot force him to like me, so I can only hope the king was right when he said that Rowan likes me and enjoys my presence.

"I was just thinking about how tired I will be today because you snore at night," I comment, because I feel comfortable with him and I know Rowan will not be angry with me for poking fun at him.

As I assumed, he begins to laugh. "Ah, you are humorous," he says, standing up from his desk and hopping on the bed. "I can always kick you out of here."

Wait, that idea actually scares me.

I think he sees the hurt on my face, because he is quick to climb under the blankets with me and hug me, offering reassurance.

He does not have to, but he does. Rowan pokes my stomach, and I let out a shriek because it's ticklish and I did not expect it.

"Agh!" I cry out, trying to get away from this weird man who is more obsessed with tickling me than he is with trying to touch me in an inappropriate manner. "Rowan, stop!"

As soon as I say it, he stops tickling me, his own laughter echoing in the room.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Rowan asks me, his hands on the sides of my stomach as he rubs the skin there with gentle fingers.

I nod, but I don't move because I'm so comfortable laying against Rowan with his hands on my sides and his chin on my left shoulder.

"We should get up," Rowan says, but he doesn't move at all, and I don't push him to do so.

"Or we can continue lay here..." I suggest it, mainly because I am so comfortable and content being close with Rowan.

He hums, and I am happy that he is relaxing as well, meaning that he is not going to push me to get up. However, he does reach over to a long rope beside his bed and rings it, and of course I recognize what it is.

We have them in Vayl, too. They are used to summon a certain group, as there are between three and five bells, all with a different pitch so each crew knows when to respond.

"Which group did you call?" I ask, and I do not miss the note of surprise in his voice when he responds.

"The kitchen crew," he tells me, putting the rope away and I grin to myself when he puts his hands back on my hips. "I rarely use those bells, unless I get sick or... cannot find it in myself to get out of bed."

I am assuming that he is referring to when his father died, because I know I went through my own depression when my parents were killed, but I didn't get time to mourn because I was too busy trying to not anger Master.

"And what's your reasoning today for not getting out of bed?" I tease, even though I already know. I just want to get Rowan out of his somber mindset, because I care about him and his happiness.

Rowan scoffs behind me, pinching my sides and making me giggle after I shriek again. "Because I have a person laying on me and I wish not to disturb him," he tells me, reaching one of his hands up to ruffle my hair.

"You tickling me is disturbing," I tell him, reaching behind me to poke at his side, but he doesn't even react! "Are you not ticklish?!"

He shakes his head; I can feel his hair and face rub against me as he does so. "No, I'm not. How unfortunate for you."

"Oh, quiet," I grumble, turning around and sitting in his lap. "I will find your weakness, your majesty."

Rowan snickers. "Ah, yes, because I have so many weaknesses," he says, rolling his eyes at me. "Unless you have a plot to destroy my entire kingdom, I have no weaknesses."

Gods, I want to be his weakness. It is a horrible thought, because I never wish to weaken Rowan, as he is a strong, fearless person who does not deserve to be weakened. Yet, at the same time, I want him to care about me, I want Rowan to value me.

The door to the room opens and a cook walks in with a tray. I cannot identify this person's gender, because they have components do their body that look female and others that look male.

Their eyes widen and the person sets down the tray of food on the bed before jumping up and down and screeching.

"Oh my gods, Rowan! Is that a cute boy in your bed with you?! Holy hell, when did this happen?!"

Their shrieking has me wanting to run, because I really hate when people yell, even if it isn't at me. It makes me anxious and I want to hide.

"Tyla, please lower your voice," Rowan says, so I'm sure he felt me tense against him. "This is Ciaran. He helped save me from being killed in Vayl. Ciaran, this is Tyla, our head chef."

"Did you not visit Vayl two weeks ago?" Tyla asks, their eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, but Ciaran and I have not interacted with very many people. It is mainly being out in the forest," Rowan explains, but he seems very defensive.

Tyla rolls their eyes.

I lean into Rowan's ear. "Are they male or female?" I ask, because I would feel bad assuming a gender for someone when I am not sure.

Rowan hums and pats my back, answering loud enough for Tyla to hear. "Tyla does not have a gender preference for themself. They were kicked out of their village but we took them in about nine years ago. Tyla is an amazing cook and has been trying to get me to choose a partner for years." He adds the last sentence with annoyance and malice in his tone.

Tyla grins. "And it looks like you finally have!"

Rowan scowls and walks over to the Tyla, grabbing the food and bringing it over to the table. "We aren't partners," he says, his face bright red and his words kind of make my stomach twist in a bad way. "We are friends."

"Friends who sleep naked together?" Tyla asks, their face bright.

"We are both wearing undergarments! It gets hot when we are wearing pajamas!" I exclaim, trying to soothe some of Rowan's obvious embarrassment.

Tyla just smirks at us and waves as they skip out of the room.

"I will change rooms," I mumble, knowing that my being in this room has not only embarrassed Rowan, but it has probably shamed him as well.

Who wants a past sex slave in their sheets? He knows what I am, he knows how tainted and disgusting I am... gods, I was foolish to hope that Rowan would grow to like me! He only saved me because I saved him first!

"Why would you do that?" Rowan asks, and he seems surprised what I want to change rooms. "Did Tyla say something to offend you?"

I shake my head. "No. You were very embarrassed of me, though, so I think it is best that I no longer sleep with you. Whoever you end up with in the future may not like to hear that you have shared a bed with a sex slave," I explain, getting out of the bed and picking out clothes from the wardrobe like I have for the last week. "May I wear these?"

Rowan does not react right away, before he nods. "Yes, go ahead. There is a room down the hall to the left that is not in use," he says as I clothe myself. He hands me one of the players of food once I am dressed, which I take and I try to not make it seem like I am running out of the room.

I can't believe I was hoping that he would stop me; gods, I am so stupid. I lay the plate of delicious looking food on the bedside table and lay down on the bed, shoving my face into the pillow.

My head begins to pound from the amount of crying I do, but I can't stop the tears. I almost consider that being a slave was better, because at least then I did not have to feel anything.

Why am I so stupid?

How could anyone see me as someone worth wanting?

I hate to contradict people, but the king was wrong. His son was only being kind to me; he did not like me or fancy me.

Why do people have to give me hope? Why did I give myself hope?

Gods, I want my life back. Not the one I've had for the last seven years, but the one I had before.

I want to be a prince again, to be happy and have my parents. I want to be with my tutors for the morning and go down to the village for the day and play with the other children in the afternoon with the head guard keeping it a secret, because my parents would never allow me to do that of their own free will.

Why does my life have to be so horrible? Why couldn't the barbarians who took over my palace have come here instead and been defeated so we could still have our kingdom?

Maybe then Rowan would want me... maybe if he knew I was actually sort of a prince, at least by blood?

No... he won't want me no matter what.

He deserves more than me, someone who can actually make him happy. Someone who is beautiful and funny and perfect... someone who isn't me.

Another wave of tears overcome me, and I wish I could drown myself in them, but all they do is soak into the pillow.