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I sat on the floor beside her chair. It put my back against the wall and left the chain loose across my lap. Bryony watched me settle.

“Does sitting on the floor offend your royal dignity?”

“My royal dignity survived a great deal. The floor isn’t its strongest opponent.”

“What was?”

“A coronation portrait involving white fucking tights.”

She laughed. The sound reached the throne room, and Harrowmere lit another lamp in response.

I refused to take that as encouragement.

Bryony tucked one foot under herself. “We need a routine that doesn’t depend on either of us guessing. I’ll eat and sleep in here. You can stay at the entrance while I’m awake, provided the chain doesn’t change. Tell me when the hunger starts getting worse.”

“Agreed. Keep water near you and eat whenever Harrowmere provides food. You lost blood twice today, so the next feeding waits until you’ve recovered and the hunger requires it.”

“How often will that be?”

“Outside Harrowmere, what you gave me would last several days. The court is draining some into the chains, so I can’t promise a number. I’ll tell you what changes instead of waiting until it hurts.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “That works.”

“When you sleep, lock the bedroom and keep the knife beside the bed. I’ll remain here unless the throne pulls me back. The chains will wake me if anyone enters the lower court.”

“You need rest as well.”

“I’ll rest when you do.”

The practical concern in her expression didn’t ease. I felt it without needing to name the connection between us.

“Can he use another way in?”

“The service gate is the only outside entrance while the Claiming holds. The garden has no exit beyond Harrowmere. If another door appears, we check it together.”

She glanced towards the three doors opening from the sitting room. “No wandering into mysterious passages. I can manage that. I only came down here because I thought an animal was trapped.”

“You found one, although I may be more demanding than the average rescue.”

Her eyes moved over my chains. “That part is obvious.”

I laughed before I could stop myself. The warmth of it was welcome after blood and rules.

Bryony smiled and let the conversation end there.

For a while, we sat without speaking. She pulled the blanket over her legs and closed her eyes. I listened to her breathing slow, though she didn’t fall asleep.

The court remained quiet. Hunger stayed under control. My hand rested close to her ankle without touching it.

After several minutes, her foot shifted against my thigh.

I looked up.

Her eyes were open. “You can touch me. I’m not made of glass.”

“I’m aware.”

I put my hand around her ankle and rubbed my thumb over the soft wool of her sock. Her pulse quickened, and she didn’t move away.