She left her shawl behind on the chair, silently following him as he crawled into bed, drawing closer to him so that she could rest her head against his chest. She had returned to a fond memory, a place that made her feel safe and protected, where war and politics had no place. In their brief time together, she was never simply a queen around him, she was herself. He knew her in a way that others did not, though he may not see the significance.

She had never told him or relayed to him the meaning of that night.

In his arms, waiting for sleep to descend, she whispered to him. "There was never anyone else." Perhaps it didn't matter and perhaps it wasn't her place, but she wanted him to know regardless. "You have been the only one to share my bed since that night. I have only ever wanted you."