Ciara hadn’t considered the Tristan problem. Not that Tristan was a problem, of course. He wasn’t. It just hadn’t occurred to her that she and Arthur, if this did become a thing more than the thing it already was, and that thing was going to last, that the prince might deserve to know. It hadn’t occurred to her that there were other people involved in all of this. In her head, it had been just her and Arthur and the rest of the world could hang because they didn’t matter in this situation.

But Tristan did matter, and he was involved whether he knew it or not. Just like any one of Ciara’s children would matter and be involved in the relationship, if it was a relationship. But her children were gone, and though she missed them and they came to mind nearly every day, she’d long since lost the compulsion to talk to him and keep them involved in her life. Nalani she would tell, of course, but Nalani would already know about this anyway. The familiar had all but pushed Ciara into the king’s arms. Tristan had to be made aware of this if it became anything more serious than filling the loneliness.

She didn’t want to think about that now, though. The idea of it being serious was a nice one, and she’d have rested there, but telling family was just going to be more stressful than the king’s life already was, and she really didn’t want to think about Mallos or anyone else outside the bedroom and what the morning was likely to bring. Whether the king was happy with the change of conversation or not, Ciara was happy that it had become more pleasant than trying to cheer him up in other, more verbal ways.

She obliged each kiss as they grew firmer, and retaliated with her own insistence until a breath was necessary. Even in that rest period, she smiled at him and stood closer than she would have dared in public. Her gaze followed his, but she knew where it was heading before his eyes settled on the bed and returned to her. His hand placement had left little doubt to his desire and intention. There was no way Ciara was going to refuse her best friend the request of further conversation throughout the evening and night. She tilted her head to kiss him again, but took a step back the second their lips brushed, teasing him toward the edge of the night.