“A bit like his father,” Ciara pointed out, adding a touch of lightness to her voice in this dreary conversation. She wasn’t wrong though. If Tristan kept his thoughts to himself, it was only because he’d learned that behavior from his father. Arthur didn’t crack, and Ciara would bet that Tristan had picked that habit up as a quality of a good leader. Pressure or not, kings had to keep their heads. It wasn’t for her to say if it was a good quality in a leader or not, but she was certain it was a poor way to cope. Still she smiled a little at the king before he continued to answer her question, though not entirely in a way she had expected.

Ciara knew that it would be a complicated question, but not so much so that it brought up every thought Arthur had had on the matter. She certainly hadn’t intended to drag up images and memories that were clearly painful to her best friend when she’d asked. She was sorry she had asked. She also wasn’t sorry, because Arthur had so much on his shoulders and Ciara had none and he couldn’t continue to go through all of this by himself. She had noticed his hair becoming more silver over the past few months, and she’d seen how badly he’d needed a break even a week ago. She could handle some of this burden for him if that’s what it took to keep him on his feet and less worn down.

She couldn’t answer his last question, and she hoped he had meant for it to be rhetorical. She didn’t know how she would handle a king like that. She didn’t know how she’d handle a king who did the opposite. She’d have supported his decision whether she agreed with it or not, however. At least publically. There might have been questions or discussions later if she dared to bring back the stress. Instead of answering, as he twisted on the bed to become more comfortable, she glanced down at the hands again with a shrug.

“There’s a world of gray between death and freedom. It may be an easier decision there,” she offered before letting the conversation drop.

A smile replaced the concerned frown that had been stuck to Ciara since the information was heaved at her. She could let the concerns go better than Arthur could, she didn’t have to deal with them later. She was happy to let him load onto her, and she was even happier for the potential reward for a job well done distracting the king. She leaned toward him as her chin was held and closed her eyes to enjoy the moment and feel every sensation in the kiss. On hand kept hold of the king’s while the other freed itself, only to mess with the unkempt beard tickling Ciara’s face. Finally, it wormed its way around his neck so Ciara could pull him a little closer before pulling away slightly, teasingly.

“Are you sure this is the conversation you’d rather be having?”