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“What happened?” Thicket asked, sitting up. Her vision dipped once more as her light head fought to clear, yet she made out the dark wall of Marcellus’ room.

“You started to fall. I caught you but you wouldn’t wake up so I brought you back here.”

“How long was I out?”

“About half an hour.” He studied her, throat bobbing. “Was my kiss really so bad that it made you black out?” He tried to play it off, but his voice was strained, the culmination of all his fears coming to fruition.

“I got my memories back,” she said, remembering the vision she had seen just before waking up.

At the time, she hadn’t been able to place it, but now as everything fell back into place, she knew. It had been right before Lavender helped her get ready for the ball. Her very first ball. The one where Thicket met Elian and his father for the first time.

More memories zipped through her mind. Elian glaring at her from afar as he and his father received a tour of the castle the following morning. Thicket trailing after them and, when his father had been distracted, pulling him into a hidden alcove. Elian demanding to know what she was doing and Thicket silencing him with a finger to her lips as she stole him away to meet Bern. The three of them playing until the maids finally found them and brought Elian back to his father.

It was here. It was all here. Every moment. Every memory up until Lavender had cut Thicket’s forearm with the cursed knife and she had crumpled into oblivion.

Her memories grew hazy then as she was reborn in the Dream World, staring her life all over again.

Marcellus’ hand drew back, his jaw tightening as his walls started to slip back into place. “And?”

Thicket met his eyes, focusing not on her past, but her present—her now.

She smiled. “And I love you.”

His eyes widened, jaw slackening before his brows slashed down into a scowl. “You really know how to steal all of a man’s dignity, don’t you? You won’t let me save you, won’t let me be the first to kiss you, proceed to pass out after the kiss—and now you’ve stolen the confession.”

“Are you pouting?” Thicket said, unable to help herself from grinning.

“Of course not,” he grumbled.

But he was and she found it adorable. “Don’t take it personally. It just so happens I don’t need to rely on a man to do the things that a woman can do better.”

He raised a single eyebrow. “Oh? Then it appears there is no place for me here.” He stood and bowed. “Your Highness.”

Her stomach flipped and she grabbed the sleeve of his tunic. “No, wait, don’t go. I was only joking.”

When he turned, he was smirking. “Now who’s pouting?” he teased.

Thicket scowled. “On second thought, you can go.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, then captured her lips. This time, she stayed present, able to feel every ounce of warmth pooling from him into her. It felt like the start of a million neverending dreams. Her fingers curled into the back of his tunic, reminding herself that this was real.

“I am never letting you out of my sight again.” Marcellus’ voice was a rumble in her ear, sending shivers all the way down her spine. “Not when I am certain you have a death wish. Who manages to fall off two clock towers in their lifetime?”

Thicket shoved his shoulder playfully. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

The corner of his lips twitched. “Never.” He kissed her once more. When they pulled away, her eyes lowered, cheeks flushing, still adjusting to the newness of it all.

“It seems I will have to get a new guard on top of a new maid,” Thicket said, tracing the lines of his fingers.

Things were going to change. But that was okay.

Change didn’t scare her anymore.

Marcellus’ expression darkened. “A new guard?”

“You can’t very well be my boyfriend and my guard,” she said.” I think it was you who mentioned something about a conflict of interest…”

In a flash, Marcellus had her pinned against the mattress, arms caging either side of her head. He leaned in close, their noses only a breath away. “No one is going to be in charge of your life except for me.” He caressed her face with his hand, expression wholly serious as his eyes drank her in, as though worried if he didn’t look at her hard enough she would slip through his fingers.