No one tried again for the better part of that year.
Hawthorn appeared beside her, clearly drunk and lolling against her shoulder. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself tonight, my queen of grumps.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that people here may want to kill you?”
“You apparently want to kill me all the time and yet I keep you around.”
Juliana scowled.
“Fine.If you must know, I’m not scared because I have you here. Threats of violence aside, I trust you to keep me safe.”
He placed a very loud, very long kiss on her cheek, and returned to the throngs of dancers, hooting with laughter.
Juliana raised a hand to her cheek, wondering if she wanted to wipe it away or hold it there.
Not long after, Hawthorn selected three guests to bring up to his rooms, and Juliana sat next door in her own, in case any trouble should arise. Hawthorn had been very insistent from day one that no one was allowed in his chambers when he was ‘entertaining’—no matter the risk to his person.
“People don’t just want to kill me,” he’d insisted. “They want to kill meand get away with it.They’ll have a hard time doing that with you posted outside.”
Juliana, who did not particularly relish the thought of watching whatever he was doing, agreed.
Listening was almost worse, and shehadto listen, just in case moans of pleasure turned into screams for help.
She really wished he’d stop inviting people up.
She’d suggested it, once.
“You can join us, if you wish,” had been his only retort. “I don’t think I’d mind you watching if you wereparticipating.”
She put an end to that idea pretty sharply.
Finally, the sounds of enjoyment slid into silence. Giggles turned to murmurs. Someone started to snore—probably the minotaur.
Sensing that her attention was likely no longer required for the night, Juliana checked the other guards were stationed outside his room, and started to undress, folding her uniform onto her chair, ready for the next day. She slipped silently between her sheets, the vines curling around the bed posts.
A short while later, halfway between sleep and the soundless dark of her not-dreams, she heard the adjoining door click open. A shadow hovered over her bed—
Juliana was yanked from sleep in an instant. She seized the knife from beneath her pillow and reached out to grab the assailant, flipping him over her shoulder onto her mattress and pressing the dagger against their throat.
“Jules, it’s me!” Hawthorn clicked his fingers, and the candles blazed back to life. “Still keeping knives under your pillow, I see.”
Juliana did not lower her blade. “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, so, the downside of inviting three people into my bed—especially when one is so, so large”—he stared wistfully into the distance for a moment—“is that there is shockingly little space left for you.”
“So you’ve come tomine?”
“Yours was closest! And already warm. You can sleep somewhere else, if you prefer. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself if you decide to stay, if you promise the same. I know I’m ravishing—“
“You mispronounced ’irritating’. You’re irritating. The most irritating person I know, in fact.”
“Please,Juliana. What if this is secretly some long-winded ploy by a very dedicated assassin to kill me in my sleep and then slip out before anyone notices?”
“You could wake them up and kick them out.”
“It’s rude to wake people who are sleeping.”
“You wokeme.”
