and just one more night, before another and another

Caeleana’s hands wrinkled the cravat in her lap, clenched as hard as she could. She did not say that she loved him for that. She did not say that she loved his compassion and care, that she loved how he seemed to just understand her and what she needed—whether that was humor or sincerity, or, in this case, the freedom to make a good choice. She didn’t say she loved this, loved him enough to do it right, so her parents would love him too, so that her court and kingdom was introduced to him correctly, so that their future—and she wanted a future—wasn’t tainted by her immediate gratification. She didn’t say she loved him enough for lifetimes.But she did.But she did.