The wind picked up, cool and crisp. I missed Rafe’s warmth at my back, the comfort of his arms around me, the nudge of his chin at the side of my head. My hair stank of oil, smoke, and dirt, even the river that had nearly killed us both, and yet he had nuzzled close, as if it smelled of flowers, as if he didn’t care if I was or ever had been a proper princess.
