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Amelia stared at the ceiling of her new bedroom suite, the moonlight casting soft patterns across the dark room. The royal residence wing was eerily quiet at this hour, so different from the constant bustle of the day. She’d spent thest hour carefully unpacking a few personal items like photographs, favorite books, small treasures from her life before bing Princess Amelia of Wystovia. Weird, she knew, to be doing this on her wedding night.

But the wedding reception had ended hours ago. After a final round of goodbyes, Niko had escorted her through a maze of corridors to their private wing of the pce. He’d shown her to her bedroom, exining which doors led where, how to call for assistance if needed.

“This will be your space,” he’d said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “My room is through there.” He’d gestured to an adjoining door between their suites. “If you need anything at all…”

Separate rooms? Oh my god, now she felt like she was ying a role in some Victorian novel.

Then he’d leaned in, kissed her cheek softly, and wished her goodnight before disappearing through the connecting door to his own chambers.

Amelia hadn’t known what to expect of her wedding night, but somehow, this wasn’t it. That brief, chaste kiss and the sound of his door closing had left her feeling strangely adrift. Was this disappointment? Relief? She

wasn’t sure.

So, after unpacking some of her stuff, she had showered and changed for bed. But she couldn’t fall asleep.

Rising from the bed, she crossed to the window. The pce gardens stretched out below, bathed in moonlight. Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed two in the morning.

Was Niko awake? She found herself drawn to the connecting door between their rooms. She stared at it, her hand hovering over the ornate brass handle. Should she knock? Just walk in? What if he was already asleep? What if he expected her toe to him but didn’t want to pressure her?

What if he didn’t want her toe at all?

Amelia’s fingers brushed the icool /imetal, then withdrew. She paced back across the room, frustrated with her own indecision. This was ridiculous. They were married now. There shouldn’t be this uncertainty between them.

The warmth in his eyes during their first dance, the sincerity in his voice when he’d whispered “I’m d it’s you” those moments had felt real. There had been genuine connection in that kiss at the altar, brief though it was. And yet here she stood, separated from her new husband by a closed door and a lifetime of formal training that had taught her to wait for direction rather than act on instinct.

“Enough,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders. She would just knock, see if he was still awake. They could talk, at least. Begin to navigate this new reality together.

Amelia returned to the connecting door with renewed determination. Her knuckles had barely grazed the polished wood when she heard movement from the other side,

The door opened before she could knock properly, revealing Niko in dark blue silk pajama bottoms and

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nothing else. His hair was slightly tousled, his expression a mixture of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite read.

“Amelia,” he said, his voice low. “I was just…” He nced back at his room, then to her. “I couldn’t sleep.” His eyes lowered.

She became acutely aware of her own thin nightgown, the way the moonlight from her window must be illuminating her silhouette.

“Neither could I,” she admitted. “It’s been… quite a day.”

A half–smile touched his lips. “That’s an understatement.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, neither quite knowing how to proceed. Amelia noticed his eyes flicker briefly down her body before returning resolutely to her face.

“Would you like toe in?” he asked finally. “Or I could join you here. We could talk.”

“Talk,” she repeated, relief and something like disappointment mingling in her chest. “Yes, that would be nice.”

He hesitated, then stepped aside. “My sitting room might be morefortable. Unless you’d prefer to stay here?”

“Your sitting room is fine,” she said, following him through the doorway. His suite mirrored hers inyout but felt distinctly different… darker woods, richer colors, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

The sitting area held afortable–looking sofa and two armchairs arranged around a low table. A half- empty ss of what looked like whiskey sat beside an open book.

“Can I get you something ito /idrink?” he offered. “Water? Tea? Something stronger?”

“Water would be perfect, thank you.”

As he moved to a small sideboard to pour her drink, Amelia took the opportunity to study him unobserved. His back was andscape of lean muscle, his shoulders broader than they appeared when hidden beneath formal attire. A thin scar traced across his left shoulder de, another story she didn’t yet know.

He turned, catching her gaze, and something electric passed between them. He handed her the water ss, their fingers brushing briefly.

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking a small sip to steady herself.

Niko gestured to the sofa. “Please, sit.”

She settled on one end while he took the other, leaving a careful distance between them. The silence stretched, both of them searching for the right words.

“I-”

“This-”

:

They spoke simultaneously, then stopped, exchanging awkward smiles.

“You first,” Niko said.

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Amelia took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure what to expect tonight,” she admitted. “Of any of this, really”

Niko nodded slowly. “I know this isn’t… conventional. I didn’t want to presume anything”

“You mean about…” She gestured vaguely between them, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“I meant about all of it,” he rified. “The marriage, the expectations, the intimacy.” He paused, his dark eyes finding hers. “I meant what I said earlier. I respect you, Amelia. I don’t view you as merely a duty to fulfill or… or a vessel for providing heirs.”

The directness of his words both surprised and touched her. “I appreciate that. Truly.”

He hesitated, then continued, “I think we have the potential for something real between us. But I don’t want to rush it. When we… if we…” He cleared his throat. “I want it to be because we both desire it, not because tradition dictates it should happen on our wedding night.”

Relief washed through her, followed by a surprising flicker of courage. “And if I said I might desire it?” The words came out barely above a whisper.

Niko’s eyes darkened. “Do you?”

Amelia set her water ss on the table, her heart pounding. “I felt something when you kissed me at the altar. And again during our dance. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I’d like to explore it. With you.” She swallowed hard. “Unless I’ve misread things?”

“You haven’t,” he said quickly, his voice rougher than before. He moved slightly closer on the sofa. “I felt it

too.”

“Then why are we in separate bedrooms?” she asked softly.

Niko ran a hand roughly through his hair, a disarmingly human gesture from a man usually soposed. “Because I didn’t want to pressure you. Because I wanted to give you space. Because…” He exhaled slowly. “Because I want this to be right, Amelia. You deserve that much.”

She reached out hesitantly, cing her hand over his. “What if right is now?”

His eyes met hers, searching. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him, because he slowly raised his free hand to her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheekbone.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

Amelia nodded, unable to find her voice as he leaned in, his lips meeting hers with gentle pressure. Unlike their ceremonial kiss, this one lingered, deepened. His hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as he drew her closer.

She responded instinctively, her own hands finding his bare shoulders, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath her palms. The kiss grew more urgent, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened to

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him with a soft gasp.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Niko rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ve wanted to do that properly since bI /bsaw you walking down the aisle,” he confessed.

“Why didn’t you?” she asked, her hands still resting on his shoulders.

His smile was rueful. “Too many eyes. There are expectations for public disys.”

“We’re not in public now,” she pointed out, surprising herself with her boldness.

“No,” he agreed, his voice deepening. “We’re not.”

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This time when he kissed her, there was no hesitation. His arms encircled her waist, drawing her against him as his mouth imed hers with newfound urgency. Amelia melted into him, her body responding to his touch with an intensity that shocked her.

When his lips left hers to trail down her neck, she let her head fall back, reveling in the sensation. His hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine through the thin silk of her nightgown.

“Amelia,” he murmured against her skin. “We should stop. If this is too fast—”

“It’s not,” she interrupted, surprised by her own certainty. “I want this. I want you.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers again. “Are you sure? Because we have time. I can wait.”

In answer, she reached for the delicate strap of her nightgown, sliding it off one shoulder. Niko’s breath caught, his gaze following the movement with undisguised hunger.

“I’m sure,” she whispered.

Something shifted in his expression; she watched as restraint that gave way to raw desire. He stood, pulling her up with him, then swept her into his arms in one smooth motion. Amelia wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her through the sitting room to his bedroom.

The massive four–poster bed dominated the space, its dark wood gleaming in the low light. Niko set her down gently beside it, his handsing to rest on her waist.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply.

“So are you,” she replied, allowing her eyes to travel openly over his chest and arms.

He smiled, “Men are not beautiful.”

“Hot then or sexy…” she said, stepping closer toy her palm against his chest, feeling his heart race beneath

her touch.

Niko caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm before guiding it back to his chest. “Touch me,” he encouraged softly. “However, you want.”