Stefan
“Your Majesty, what are you doing?” Harlyn asked, trying to pull away from me.
“I need to talk, to explain something,” I say, and before I even process what I am doing, I am walking towards the guards outside of the room I often occupy when I stay here.
They step back, and Harlyn struggles in my grip more.
“Why are we here?” she asks. I walk into the room and close the door, finally releasing her. Now, though, I regret this choice. I didn’t realise until now that it was the room from that night.
“I need to talk to you. Did I not already say that?” I press. Glancing down, I see her trying to keep the weight off her foot.
“Why this room? You could have spoken with me in the halls.” Why did I come here?
“This is my room. Your ankle can heal better here.” No, it can’t. God, what
